


The Brightest Stars Shine Here

by strawberrysummers



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Both of them have sharp tongues, Childhood Friends, City boy Jaemin, Confident Na Jaemin, Countryside Setting, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Jaemin has a complex, Light Angst, M/M, Renjun has his guard up, Renjun tears it down, Slight rivalry, Slow Burn, limited time together, lots of pushing and pulling, reunite after a long time, strong-willed village boy Renjun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 137,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrysummers/pseuds/strawberrysummers
Summary: Away from the city lights and high rises,for the first time in fourteen years, Na Jaemin comes home.He comes home, to a place beyond the mountains where the river sings and the tall grass dance.To a place where a boy, raven-black hair and striking eyes, shows him what it means to live.And what it means to lose.orNa Jaemin is a university student coming back to his old home to work on his thesis,where he meets Huang Renjun again, his childhood friend with a taste for sharp remarks and pretty scenic views.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 222
Kudos: 678





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by : "Duoi Nhung Con Mua" by Mr. Siro, and pretty villages by the mountains  
> 13.7k words ahead for Ch.1, in case  
> anyone is busy and doesn't have time :D

It had been 14 years since Na Jaemin left the place he was born. And now, it was less than 14 minutes until he returned. 

Aged 21, the brown haired, strong featured man taps his fingers on the armrest of his comfortable train seat, in the front cabin where pretty ladies in skirt suits and hair pulled back offered him snacks or maybe a beer or glass of white wine once in a while. He could tell they wanted to linger longer and talk to him, but he didn’t pay them any attention like he usually would.

Rather, his head was plagued with thoughts. He was 21 years old now, a university Junior. But he had been a mere 7 years old when he left the village he grew up in exchange for the high rises and bustling city-scape of Seoul. For the cool cafes and constant activity of metropolitan streets. For the world of digital supremacy, and the ‘work hard, play hard’ culture. 

He remembered only two things about the place he was born.

First, its name: Jebaek. He had vague memories of gorgeous green mountains looming over every side of the small village, streams and rivers that weaved in and out, and picturesques little traditional style houses that dot cobblestone streets. Memories of his mother--or maybe it was his father, he wasn’t sure--helping him fly kites in the summer, or accompanying his cousin to fish in the shallow stream. 

The second: a boy. The memories were hazy, but the boy's name remained on the tip of jaemin’s tongue. Even all these years, fuzzily remaining in his memories was a small boy, who always followed him around when they were little, wanting to play anything Jaemin had wanted to play. A small boy, who at the time, he considered his best friend for the seven ripe years they spent together.

Raven black hair that shined like coal. Cute cupid’s bow on his lips. A stature so small that it looked like he was going to fall over any moment now. Jaemin says that he doesn’t remember too much about Jebaek, but one thing he could always remember was his last day in the village before he moved. He remembered how it wasn’t the unforgettable mountains that he would miss the most, it wasn’t the calm and crystal clear streams, it wasn’t the many community festivals that Jebaek would host throughout the year. It was the boy with the raven hair that he would miss the most. 

His name was Renjun, and for some reason, Jaemin wondered quite heavily how the boy had turned out. 

Looking back on it now, Jaemin understands that it wasn’t anything too serious. A childhood friendship that ended at age 7. It wasn’t anything particularly out of the ordinary, and he was over it within a couple months after moving to Seoul, as seven year olds do. Besides, he barely had many memories that still remained in his head of the two kids, considering it had been so long and both of them had grown up significantly. 

Regardless, he still wondered. Who was Renjun now? His old childhood friend. It was nothing more than the natural curiosity anyone would have about someone they only remembered recently. 

Jaemin doubts that anyone from the village would remember him, and even if they did, Jaemin doubts even further that anyone could recognize him. He had changed an incredible amount since moving to Seoul so long ago. Gone were the days where his skin was sunkissed with freckles from afternoons spent running around the wheat fields of Jebaek or the days where he had the chubby cheeks of a seven year old child.

Na Jaemin was now one of “ _them.”_ One of the city-dwellers. Sharp, clean face with a jaw that cuts steel. Tall but muscular stature. Eyes that tempted even the purest of angels. Handsome. He had the perfectly styled up hair, where even the wisps that hung over his face was intentionally to make him look even more ruggedly handsome. He wore nice clothes from nice stores, and spritzed nice colognes on his nice body. Everything was _nice_. It was clean. It was comfortable. 

Which is why the notion of coming back to Jebaek felt _uncomfortable_ to him. Nothing about the place he grew up in seemed comfortable anymore: the way there were no skyscrapers there, no loud cars honking in the streets at any given time of the day, no cafes with relaxing music, no nightclubs with blaring ones, no cellphone signal even. 

Knowing that the population was far less than 1000 residents even made him feel suffocated, as if he was some intruder barging in on a private community's lifestyle. Even his university back in Seoul had more students within its walls than his village had in its entire perimeters. 

Jaemin pursed his lips at the thought of his university, which was the reason why he was here in the first place, on his way back to a place he used to call home but could barely even remember. 

His Junior year thesis for his anthropology minor was going to be based on modern day societies that were stuck in time and how the people in those societies live. And Na Jaemin figured, there was no better place to study that than here, in Jebaek, where time seemed to stop in the 1800s and the people were stripped of every technological advancement that a place like Seoul had to offer. 

He was here for his thesis. And within a month and a half, he will be gone again, back to Seoul. Back to his nice, clean university dorm. Back to the comforts of bar-hopping or karaoke night outs. Back to actual civilization. Not some tiny village he no longer calls home, nestled snugly between mountains and rivers, and where if he went far enough, the ocean was a day’s walk away. He hadn't arrived at Jebaek yet, but already, he wanted to turn back. 

  
  
  
  


“Jaemin, I would never have thought you would have grown up like this!” His aunt spoke as he sat on a suede couch across from her. 

Na Jaemin had arrived in the village not too long ago, around 11 P.M. according to his watch, and it seemed as if the world was asleep. It was Spring, and the only sounds that filled the quietness of the rural village were crickets, the rustling of leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl, and his own footsteps against the cold cobblestone. 

The traditional architecture of the village looked the same as the movies he had watched, and the kerosene lamps hung above the doors were only testament to that. He walked quickly, afraid of his own noises when he walks. It was a little too quiet. A little too uncomfortable from a city boy used to constant loud ruckuses. 

He walked until he was at his old home, a two story traditional building with a gorgeous bamboo exterior and un-paned windows. All he knew was that his aunt, Mrs. Rin, maintained the place by herself while staying at the house next door. From the stories he hears from his father, she had been widowed by a hunting accident and never had kids, yet the woman did not give up. Instead, she decided to play a role as sort of the ‘mother’ of the village. He could feel that: in the way she smiled kindly at him, in the way she exclaimed at his arrival as if she had been waiting for him all these years. He sits there now, facing her.

Jaemin gave her a smile, his signature one that won over everyone, “Aunt Rin, I think you forget it’s been fourteen years since you last saw me.”

She shook her head in shock, “What happened to the little boy with the chubby cheeks and short legs? And floppy hair? You’re a man now, Jaemin. A handsome one at that,” She said proudly. 

Jaemin shook his head in feigned humbleness, “You’re too kind.” 

He looked around the house. He could tell everything was handmade. Everything from the ornate marble tea sets to the arched beamed roof of the house. The staircases still had the fresh smell of cherry wood as if it was only yesterday that it had been installed. Small lamps hung here and there, illuminating the home in a warm, basking glow. He could still hear the crickets outside. 

“Well,” She clasped her hands, “I’m glad you’ve come back to visit. Your father only wrote to me briefly about why you’ve come. Tell me again, what is this about?”

Jaemin fixed his posture, reciting the words that he had become so numb to telling everyone who asked, “My anthropology thesis.”

“Oh yes? What is it on?” She inquired.

Jaemin hesitated, unsure how to word it, “I’m doing it on societies in the 21st century, that still live their lives as if it’s the past. Rural societies without advancements, like this one. Like Jebaek.” 

Mrs. Rin pursed her lips at that and simmered on her nephew’s words, nodding in comprehension, “That’s interesting.”

Jaemin sat back in his seat. He could tell there was something his aunt wanted to say, “What is it, Mrs. Rin? There’s something you’re thinking about. I can tell.”

She smiled and shook her head, “Do they also teach you how to read minds in those fancy universities, Jaemin?” She said it with kindness and humor, “You’re staying for almost two months, right?”

Jaemin nodded his head. 

“Well, I was thinking that,” She started, “within these next two months, you will find that Jebaek is not a society that lives in the _past_ . We are living very well in the _present_ , Jaemin. You just do not see it yet. But you will.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion, “I’m not sure I understand.”

His aunt smiled, “Do not worry. Renjun will show you, sooner or later.”

“Renjun?” Jaemin perked up a little at the name, his curiosity coming back. The boy had to be 21 now, considering they were the same age, and according to what his aunt said, it implied that he still lived in this village. The thought made Jaemin a bit sad. He had never left. His mind and body were confined to the small world that is Jebaek and the small things that the village had to offer. He imagined that the small little boy he knew when he was younger was still a small boy now at heart, even if it was in a grown man’s body, due to the sheer fact that it seems that no one in this village ever leaves. 

“Yes, do you remember him?” His aunt asked curiously, “You two used to be attached to the hip, causing trouble, when you were younger.”

Jaemin paused, “I remember bits and pieces.” 

She nodded, “Anyways, Renjun will be the one who will show you around and explain to you about whatever you want to know for your thesis.”

Jaemin asks, “Does he remember me?”

His aunt moved her head to side as if thinking about it, “He does. He remembers. Jaemin, you forget that it was _you_ who moved. All the memories you two had here as children, all the places you two had been? Renjun lives every day seeing them.”

“That sounds…” _obsessive,_ Jaemin wanted to say. 

Mrs. Rin shook her head, understanding how it might have come off, “No, no, don’t get me wrong. Renjun moved on within a couple of months after you left, since after all, you two were both seven. Renjun doesn’t actually care too much about it. In fact, when I told him you were coming back, he…” She looked as if she was confused, “...didn’t seem to care at all. I’m just saying that he does, in fact, remember.”

“Right,” Jaemin nodded. That made more sense now to know that both of them were going to be on the same blank page. 

“And mind you…” Mrs. Rin hesitantly said, “...Renjun isn’t always the most cooperative.” 

Jaemin laughed, now even more curious to see how his old friend turned out, “Oh really? So why is he assigned to show me around?”

“Because,” She said with a proud glint in her eyes, “He’s brilliant. Renjunnie is brilliant, and will teach you things no one else can.”

Jaemin doubts it. Not maliciously, but he doubts it. What could he be taught that he hadn’t been given in university? A highly ranking one at that. Jaemin had been given the tools of the modern world under his fingertips for him to use in terms of knowledge, and it drastically differed from the lacking system of education that could be found in a place like Jebaek. But regardless, he was intrigued. 

His aunt yawned, “Anyways, you will meet him in the afternoon. I would say morning, but he is not someone you want to be around in the morning.”

“He sounds charming,” Jaemin made sarcastic commentary, aimed to be funny. 

But his aunt just shook her head with a small smile, “He is, Jaemin, he is.”

  
  
  


Na Jaemin meets Renjun in the morning anyways. Albeit, not on purpose. 

On any given day, Jaemin would have slept well into the afternoon, splayed out on his bed waiting for the midday sun to arrive before he would make any effort to leave. But it was awfully hard to do so in a new place. 

Jaemin was used to sleeping with the noise of the city outside of his dorm, maybe a couple friends over to hang out until late into the night, maybe even someone's body to keep him company intimately. However, here in Jebaek, there was none of that. There was no friends, no company, and most of all: no noise to fall asleep to. All he heard as he laid in bed were the eerie noise of _nothing_. It had been hard to sleep, so by the time 6 A.M. rolled around, an ungodly hour to be awake by Jaemin’s standard, the boy was out of bed. 

He figured that since he was awake, he might as well take a small stroll through the place he was staying in, eager to get his thesis done and over with. 

The early morning offered a hazy light that broke through the mountains in the background and casted the village in a soft, yellow glow. The beams of sunlight hit the brown structures of the village perfectly, and glinted off of windows. A small wind whipped through the cold, cobblestone lined streets and twirled little leaves in the air before scattering them everywhere. The air was fresh, unlike the polluted atmosphere he would find in Seoul. But even then, he didn’t find it comforting. The village looked like it came out of a movie, too perfect. 

He walked for a while, curving in and out of the streets unsure of where exactly he was trying to head towards. His feet was just taking him wherever they wanted to go. In his head, he was already mapping out what questions he wanted to ask for his thesis, which subjects he wanted to dive into, all of the technicalities he needed to flesh out. 

He kept on walking until he reached the Northern edge of the village, where the crystal clear rivers made up its border. Where, in the far distance, he could see a person.

It seemed to be a small person. Not a child, per se, but just small in stature. They were working on something, hunched near the ground on their knees. It was curious. No one else seemed to be awake at this time, for the streets had been empty, yet here someone was, at the edge of the village doing something Jaemin couldn’t quite figure out.

Curious, he allowed his legs to take him there, closer and closer until the village was just a little ways behind him and he was approaching the person, one who he now recognized to be a man with dark hair and fast working limbs. He was crouched over what seemed to be a relatively large hole with nets and water running through it. 

He didn’t make a sound as he approached. Not intentionally, but the grass underneath his feet helped to silence the sound of his footsteps. 

It probably was not a good idea to let his presence go unknown because just then, the person who had been working on whatever it was stood up and made a move to turn around, but upon seeing someone so close to him, yelped.

The man--boy--whoever it was, in a state of shock started tumbling back, threatening to fall into the pit he had been working on just moments ago, but before he could, Jaemin quickly reached an arm out to stabilize the person, holding onto his arm and pulling him back forward until he was on his feet once more. Jaemin kept his arms on the stranger until he became balanced again.

 _“Shit_ ,” The dark-haired stranger cursed, “You _cannot_ just snea-”

The stranger stopped in his tracks as he looked up to see who exactly it was that caused him to lose his balance from sheer shock just now. The boy was genuinely surprised to see that it wasn’t one of his fellow villagers, who he could recognize instantly in his sleep due to the fact that he had lived here for so long.

Instead, he came face to face with a man who stood a couple inches taller than him, with beautiful jaw structure and brown hair and equally brown stormy eyes. A factory-knit long sleeve shirt hugged the dimensions of his body. He could almost say the stranger was unrecognizable but that would be a lie. He remembered much: ditching prayers at the temple, trying to catch fish with bare hands, playing hacky sack past dinnertime. Memories from so long ago that the stranger could have easily forgotten what this man in front of him looked like. Could have. But he didn’t. Those eyes from his childhood were unmistakable. 

He was not the only person who paused in their tracks. Na Jaemin was quite taken aback too. Like the boy himself, Jaemin also was trying to comprehend what he was seeing. It felt like those weird flashbacks people sometimes had: where they were not sure if it was something they dreamt up or an actual memory that existed sometime long ago. Sometimes, back in Seoul, he thought back to memories of his childhood and wondered if they had been real at all. Or was he just recalling dreams that he had made up in his mind. However, standing here, seeing the manifestation of those memories come to life felt almost surreal.

The raven-haired figure in front of him was not the awkward, stuttering little kid that he remembered, or slightly remembered at least. He had grown into somewhat of a beautiful man, with naturally rosy cheeks and pink lips. Long lashes fluttering, eyes sharp, and body was slender. Stunning. With all the time that had passed, Jaemin was surprised he could recognize the man so easily. 

“Huang Renjun?” Jaemin asked, words feeling strange on his palette. The name felt like an old song that you sing again, forgetting how the lyrics went but still knowing the melody. 

The boy in question cocked his head to the side as if stunned and amused, before clicking his tongue, “Na Jaemin.”

Then the boy looked at Jaemin up and down, almost unashamed. He took in the sight before him as if not being able to believe it, “They said you were coming home.”

 _Home_. Jaemin noticed the boy’s wording. No, he wasn’t coming ‘home.’ This wasn’t his home. He was here for his thesis, but he understood Renjun’s sentiment. The boy probably used that term loosely. They stood there for a moment, taking in the surrealness of the situation. For the first time in forever, they stand in the same space again. Yet the time that had passed made it feel as if they were farther away than ever. 

“Are you doing well?” Jaemin asked. He didn’t know what to say. It was not as if they were best friends anymore, who would talk to each other about everything under the sun and moon. Hell, they were only distant memories in each other’s minds. 

Huang Renjun nodded, “I am. And you?” 

“I’m doing fine,” Jaemin responded.

A silence ensued. Neither of them knew exactly what to say. At this point, they were essentially strangers with a bit of deja vu. 

Jaemin nodded, “You look different.” 

Renjun let out a laugh, one that sounded like a song with a pretty melody. A pleasant voice to match a pleasant face, “It’s been, what, fourteen years? Did you expect me to still be a seven year old boy, Jaemin?”

Jaemin let out a grin and shook his head in admittance, “I kind of did, actually.” 

The raven-hair boy let out a small snort. 

Jaemin continued, “To be honest, I wouldn’t be too far off if I said so. You’re still small.”

At that, his former friend rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “And you’re still annoying.”

Jaemin smiled, “That’s not what you thought when we were younger. Remember? You used to follow me around. Everywhere I went. Did everything I did.”

Renjun’s eyes widened. It was a cute sight, “You remember that much? I’m surprised.”

Jaemin shook his head, “I can only remember little things here and there. It’s mostly just empty gaps though.”

“Oh,” Renjun said, “Pity.” 

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at the comment, “Oh?”

Renjun looked behind him up to the mountains, which were lighting up from the slowly rising sun, “Well, since you’re here, maybe I can help you fill in those memory gaps.” 

Jaemin chuckled and put his hands in his pockets, “Thanks, but I’m not here for that.” 

He was here to complete his thesis, and as soon as that was over, he will immediately book a train back to his real home. 

“Right,” Renjun nodded, suddenly remembering why his childhood friend had even come back, “You’re here for that thesis, right?”

“Yes.”

“The one about people who live outdated lifestyles? People like me?” he rolled his eyes.

Jaemin laughed, “I never said that, Renjun.”

“But you think that.” The boy said a smile that revealed many things, no hostility in his voice, “You city-slickers always think that about people like us.”

Jaemin couldn’t help but notice the banter Renjun was provoking, not expecting his childhood friend to grow up as sharp as he did. Renjun seemed to think he could see through people. So far he was right.

Jaemin clicked his tongue, “You think you’re clever now, don’t you.” 

Renjun only smiled wider, stepping a bit closer, “And _you_ think I can’t be, don’t you? Village boy like me. City boy like you with a world-class education. All of this makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it? The village, the quietness, everything?” 

Jaemin raises his head high. His handsome head, if Renjun may comment. But he wouldn’t because he had his guard up against Na Jaemin. The brown-haired man had an aura around him, as if he didn’t _get it_. He didn’t get this place: Jebaek. He was used to his 5G technology and worldly technological advancements that he saw no use in a place like Jebaek, a place whose impact on the world was so small that it could be replaced with a house plant and no one would notice. Renjun could tell Jaemin felt that way before he had even arrived back home, solely judging from the topic of the boy’s thesis which he had read in a letter. 

Na Jaemin took the comment in stride, “And _you_ like to jump to conclusions.”

Renjun raised a brow, “Tell me then, Jaemin, is my conclusion wrong?”

Jaemin paused for some sort of dramatic effect. He knew that Renjun already knew his response, and that there was no use in denying it. It was like the boy could speak through souls, “No, it isn’t.” 

Renjun seemed to be surprised at the honesty of that response, stepping back a bit and a look of amusement overtook his face. He hadn’t expected Jaemin to admit it so easily, “Well.” That’s all he knew how to say. 

Na Jaemin nodded as if he just now understood something and looked up at Renjun through his fringe, “Mrs. Rin had told me you wouldn’t be easy to work with. I can see what she means now.” 

Renjun smiled for real this time, “I don’t make anything easy, Jaemin. Everything has to be worked for.”

“Yeah?” Jaemin now stood asking, “So what’s your price?” 

“Price?”

“For your cooperation,” Jaemin clarified, “Everyone has a price.” 

“Spoken like a true city boy,” Renjun humored, arms crossed. 

Jaemin ran a hand through his own hair. He joked, “Keep calling me that and I’ll start calling you ‘villager’.” 

Renjun laughed, that melodic sound ringing again, “Well, all I would be doing is showing you around the village and answer whatever soulless questions you have about it, right?”

He let out an airy chuckle, “Right.”

“In that case,” Renjun looked up to the sky as if he was thinking, still sprinkled with faint stars from the early morning sky, “My price is that you take me up on my offer. You said you have gaps in your memory from our childhood, right? Come with me, and I’ll let you relive them.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, curious as to what the raven-haired boy was trying to do. Renjun seemed awfully adamant that Jaemin remember things from their childhood, but he wasn’t sure why. Renjun’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited for an answer. 

“What are you trying to do exactly?” Jaemin asked, curiously. 

Renjun wasn’t afraid to tell him. The smaller man spoke with confidence, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to hang on to the past or anything. To be honest, I don’t quite care."

“So then why do you insist so much that I agree to this?” Jaemin humored. 

“Because,” Renjun started, “I think that if you remembered...you wouldn’t be so keen on going back to the city anymore. I’m tired of you people thinking you’re better than a place like this. I think that if you remembered, I bet you won’t feel that way.”

Na Jaemin was intrigued. He was intrigued by the way Huang Renjun so confidently said this, as if he _knew_ something that Jaemin did not. He was also both intrigued and amused by just how peculiar his old friend has become. 

“You know I have no choice, right?” Jaemin smiled, still amused, “I’m going back by the end of 50 days, whether I want to or not.”

Renjun nodded quickly, “I know. That’s what I’m saying. You’ll go back alright, because you have to. But trust me, you’re not going to want to.”

Jaemin’s grin just grows wider, as he faces this silly challenge, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Then in that case,” Jaemin was impressed by the boy’s slick confidence. It rivaled his own, “We’ll make it a deal.”

Renjun smiled, and then patted Jaemin on the side of the arm, “Great. Now if you remember, we were supposed to meet in the _afternoon_. It’s still morning, and I’m busy, so” He made waving motions, “Shoo.” 

Na Jaemin shook his head, unable to believe that the little baby Renjun he knew in his memories had grown to be somewhat of a stubborn, offstandish person, “We haven’t seen each other in fourteen years, and you already want to get rid of me?.” He laughed.

Renjun carried a long tubular pipe in his hands and chuckled as he began walking past Jaemin, “We’ll have plenty of time together, don’t worry, Na.”

Jaemin just stood there, unsure where he was supposed to go now or what he was supposed to do in this strange place. He wanted to ask Renjun what exactly he had been doing so early this morning with the pipe in his hand, but he figured that the boy would be more annoyed than he already seemed to be if Jaemin asked him useless questions as he worked. 

But right before he could walk away completely, Huang Renjun turned back around and took one good look at Na Jaemin. At the way the morning’s rays highlighted the gorgeous angles on the university student’s jaw, the stormy brown glint in his eyes glowed, the large and tall build. Jaemin was nothing like the person he remembered, not in physique or in personality. 

“Just for the record,” Renjun began, “You look different too.”

“ _Just_ different?” Jaemin asked. 

The raven-haired boy laughed and wiped his hands, “Do you want me to tell you that you’ve grown up to be handsome?” He took a guess, “You already know that you are though, didn’t you? You just want me to admit it.” 

Jaemin could say he was definitely amused. He decides that if he denies what Renjun said, then he would just come off insincere since yes, he _did_ know. And if he admitted to it, then if nothing else, he could play the game of bluntness against the person who was now essentially a stranger to him. 

“It’s nice meeting you, Renjun.” Jaemin says instead of replying. He did not say _again._ He did not say ‘it’s nice meeting you _again.’_ Instead, Jaemin chose to say ‘It’s nice meeting you,’ as if they were meeting for the first time. 

And to a certain degree, it was the truth.

Renjun took a pause, and looked down at his flat shoes before looking up again with a hint of a smile. He had not failed to notice Jaemin’s choice of words, “It’s nice to meet you too, Jaemin.”

  
  
  
  
  


Jaemin ventures back into the house he was staying in and stays there until the afternoon sun wanes over the village. He didn’t want to walk around, because quite honestly, he wasn’t sure what to do. He felt out of place, with each person in Jebaek having some task to do and something occupying their mind, he felt as if him walking around aimlessly through the streets would be disrupting the natural flow of things. Instead, he waits it out in his room. 

Jaemin looked around. Aunt Rin had let him stay in his old room, from when he was a younger boy. Although the bed was different, more suited to his size now, most everything else was left the same. The clay figurines are still on a mahogany dresser. Wardrobe with painted blue flowers still sitting in the corner. Even the carpet’s fur felt familiar underneath his feet, even though it shouldn’t have. It had been so long. A dreamcatcher weaved with beautiful threads of purple, pink, and green laid right above the window of the room. 

From the window, Na Jaemin can see a little bit of the village. Rows of asymmetrical houses and small shops here and there. Some people were taking it slow, walking unhurriedly as if enjoying every second life gave them. Others walked fast, usually carrying something in their hand, intent on getting some mundane village task finished. Sometimes, there were children too, running about the gray stone streets, feet bare and black from the dirt. He fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. 

He must have fallen asleep again, for it was around 2 in the afternoon that he felt an arm shaking him awake. 

When he opened his eyes, a person with hair as dark as a raven’s stood over him, blocking the sun’s path through the window. The person had a relatively blank expression, and strung a backpack around his shoulders. 

“Get up,” Renjun clapped his hands, “Your thesis isn’t going to write itself.”

Jaemin groaned and rolled over, “How did you get in here?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Well, there’s the first fact for your thesis. No one here locks their doors.”

Finally, interested, Jaemin made himself get up off the bed. He stood up. Immediately, Renjun’s small stature seemed to shrink when compared to Na Jaemin’s. The brown haired man stood with broad shoulders from too many nights spent at the gym instead of trying to sleep a normal schedule and his height reached a couple inches above Renjun. It shocked Renjun every time to see how his old friend had grown up. 

Jaemin reached over to the maple wood nightstand and grabbed the leather-bound notebook and pen and opened it to the next blank page. He jotted down some notes then looked back up at Renjun.

“Why?” He asked, as if he was an interrogator. 

Renjun gave him a sly look, “Why do you people in the city lock _your_ doors?”

“Because,” Jaemin answered without a second thought, “we don’t want strangers coming in and stealing our things.” 

“Then think about it, Jaemin,” Renjun nodded, “There’s only a couple hundred people in Jebaek. No one here is a stranger to each other. We have this unique thing called trust.”

Jaemin snorted while writing his notes down, now following Renjun down the stairs and towards the exit, “Right. Do you want to explain further?”

“What else is there to explain, Jaemin?” Renjun let out a pretty laugh, taking small steps off the porch until they were back onto the cobblestone streets, “Everyone here knows each other. All the little kids? We all watched them be born and grow up. All of the elderly? We’ve been helping them with their daily activities since _we_ were born. Everyone in between? They’re a part of our everyday lives. At that point, everyone is family. There’s no “yours” or “mine.””

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows, “That sounds a little bit like communism if you ask me.”

Renjun walks slow enough to elbow Jaemin slightly. He rolled his eyes while clicking his tongue, “I’m trying to lecture you here, Na. Your commentary is not funny.”

Jaemin shrugged, tucking his pencil behind his ear, “It is a little.”

Renjun smiled slightly.

Then Na Jaemin put his hands in his pocket and looked around, “So how are we going to do this? _I_ want to work on my thesis. But _you_ want to take me on some nostalgia trip. So how is this going to work?”

Renjun pursed his lips and thought, “We can alternate days. Every other day, we’ll work on your thesis, and you can control whatever topic you want to know about on those days. I’ll tell you all that I can. And the days in between, I’ll decide what we do. And you’ll just have to trust me.” 

Jaemin shook his head chuckling, “It sounds like you’re calling the shots here, Renjun.”

“Well,” Renjun tilted his head forward, “I _am_ the one who knows the most about Jebaek. So you practically have no choice.”

“I _could_ just ask someone else,” Jaemin tilted his head forward in response, not shying away.

Renjun snickered, “But you’re not going to do that, are you. You’re curious.” 

Na Jaemin could not find himself denying that. There was a way his old friend spoke, as if he knew something that Jaemin did not. As if he held secrets that no one else knew. Still, he was amused. 

“What are you, a psychoanalyst?” Jaemin laughed. He was starting to pick up that Renjun liked to call people’s thoughts before it even reaches their lips. 

“Well?” Renjun tilted his head to the side, “Am I right? You’re curious, aren’t you. To see what I know? To see who I am?”

“I am,” Jaemin admitted, and decided to poke a little fun at his old friend, “But you already knew that, didn’t you. You just wanted me to admit it.” 

Renjun held his tongue at that, choosing rather to smile challengingly at Jaemin, for seeing his game. 

“Anyways,” The raven-hair boy then said, “What’s today's topic? What do you want to know?” 

Jaemin let out an airy laugh at the change of topic and then flipped back to the first page of his notebook. He had conjured up a list of topics he was going to ask about. 

He quickly jotted numbers next to the topics, odd numbers for the odd days that Renjun was allotting him. Day 1. Day 3. Day 5. Day 7. And so on. Every other day in between was Renjun’s. 

“Number one: population.” Jaemin spoke and then looked up. 

He caught Renjun standing there, teetering back on forth on his heels, as if thinking of how exactly to go about this. Renjun was deep in thought, pacing slightly in the middle of the road. They weren’t blocking anyone or anything per se, since not many people were out. The village was peaceful around them underneath the afternoon sun, high in the sky. The mountain green looked lush. The sky flooded with blue. 

Finally, Renjun nodded and looked back at Jaemin, “Population, right?”

“Right,” Jaemin affirmed. 

“I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Jaemin was taken aback, “ _Everyone?”_

“Yes,” Renjun shook his head enthusiastically, “What better way to learn about the population than to meet the entire population? There’s not that many of us, you don’t have to worry.” 

Jaemin laughed at the incredulity of the situation, “You’re serious.”

“Completely,” The raven-haired boy said unfazed in the slightest.

Jaemin found it insane. When he said he wanted to know about the population, he was expecting maybe for Renjun to give him a catalogue of birthdays or some census count. At most, he was expecting a bunch of statistics about the village’s demographics. He definitely had not expected Renjun to offer to introduce him to everyone included in said population. But, Jaemin figures, this would give him valuable information. 

“Alright then,” He accepts. 

“Alright then,” Renjun repeats with a smile. 

Jaemin had expected himself to be a lot more tired than he actually was. In fact, he expected himself to have easily gotten sick of meeting people as soon as they started. It was not that Jaemin was shy. He definitely was not. If anything, he was quite the opposite. It was that he just usually got tired of constantly introducing himself. But no, not today. 

Jaemin surprised himself actually. He surprised himself by not getting tired in the slightest, even after they had met families upon families. They went to every door, not bothering to knock on their way in. Renjun walks first and Jaemin trails only a couple steps behind. The raven-hair boy knew everyone by name, knew what endeavors they were currently pursuing whether it be carrying a child or learning how to weave baskets, and knew each house as if it were his own.

Renjun introduces everyone to Jaemin, and he is received well. Almost too well. It seemed as if everyone wanted to know what life was like in the city, and Jaemin was more than happy to tell them. He would notice that Renjun’s eyes would roll to the back of his head every time someone would get excited over Jaemin’s stories though. It made Jaemin want to go into even more detail, curious enough. 

Jaemin thought it would be hard to remember names, but Renjun made it easy. Before he would get introduced, Renjun would get a little closer, and nudge him. Then quietly, Renjun would point at whoever it was and attach a story to their name.

“Her over there,” Renjun would whisper while pointing at a woman in a blue dress a couple meters away, “That’s Sarin. She has a husband, but everyone knows she sleeps with the town magistrate.” 

Just like that, Jaemin knew he’d remember. 

Every name had a story now. Every face had some detail to match with it. He wasn’t going to lie. It was interesting to hear Huang Renjun’s take on everyone. He seemed to have something to say about every single person in Jebaek. At some points, the stories were so compelling that Jaemin even forgot to jot down notes about them. There was Mrs. Yang down the street who cooked the _best_ seaweed soup. There was Mr. Go, who had a habit of going to the next village over to gamble. 

Jaemin even met Renjun’s parents again, who had so many fond memories of them two as children. They were shocked by how much Jaemin had changed, but adored him nevertheless. Jaemin just remembered the slightly familiar turns and corners of Renjun’s parent’s house, and how they used to play here. Renjun, he heard, did not live there anymore. 

There were Renjun’s friends, too. They all seemed to remember Jaemin in some shape or another, some less than others. Lee Donghyuck remembered how Jaemin would only exclusively play with Renjun when they were tiny, even when other people wanted to play with Jaemin. Lee Jeno remembered Jaemin’s chubby cheeks and short limbs, shocked now by how much that had changed. Zhong Chenle remembered the least: just how he became Renjun’s closest friend after Jaemin left fourteen years ago. They were all kind, and funny in a relaxed way, as if they didn’t have to try so hard to enjoy each other’s company. Renjun only stuck around a couple minutes, before dragging Jaemin off again to meet more people.

They ended at a small clearing. The clearing was the size of a small soccer field, with grass that has been whacked down with a sharp scythe, yet was still uneven. The makeshift field was used by kids, ranging from the age of 5 all the way up to around 13 or so, playing their version of a kicking game. It looked like soccer, except the ball looked different and the rules seem different too. As they approached the field, Renjun plopped down on the grass to watch. Jaemin followed suit, until both of the men had their knees propped up and watching the children play before them. 

“You want to play with them?” Renjun asked. 

“I don’t know how to,” He replied, twirling his pen around his fingers as he waits for Renjun to lecture him on something useful for his thesis.

Renjun laughs, “They don’t either. They just make up rules and hope it’s fun.” 

Jaemin shook his head, “I’ll pass.” 

They sit there in a silence. Renjun simply observed the children playing before him, soaked with sweat and filled to the brim with a youthful energy that radiates happiness. Jaemin had his notebook laid open on the grass, his pen still twirling around his fingertips as he itches to finish up. To add more numbers to his list. To jot down more notes. He was waiting for Renjun, impatient considering he wanted to finish this thesis as quickly as possible. 

Suddenly, the raven-haired boy turned to Jaemin and reached a hand out to stop the boy from twirling his pen and tapping his foot. Jaemin looked over at the man, and gave him a questioning look. 

Renjun pursed his lips, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” 

“Fidgeting. Waiting. Looking at the clock as if you got somewhere to be,” Renjun said, “Because you don’t. Just sit back an-”

“You know I’m not here for that,” Jaemin interrupted, reminding Renjun where his boundaries were, “Now, maybe if you had some information about the age range of the kids, or demographics, that’d be nice. But other than that, I have work I need to do, Renjun.”

Renjun didn’t say anything for a moment, opting rather to look Jaemin in the eyes as they sit there in a silent face off. Jaemin didn’t budge. Then, Renjun picked himself up off and ground and looked over to the kids before glancing back down where Jaemin was still sitting.

He then yelled to the bunch of children, “Guys, come here. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

Jaemin then looked over to the field, where at the sound of Renjun’s voice, one that the kids grew to adore and respect, they all started gathering and jogging in a cute pack over to where they were. 

Soon enough, Jaemin was surrounded by a group of what seemed to be a dozen or so children, all with bright curious eyes and cheeks filled with baby fat. Their hairs were black and floppy, and plain shirts matted to their backs from sweat. They all poked and giggled at the strange man that they had never seen before, from some strange city wearing strange clothing. 

But most of all, they were intrigued by Jaemin’s strange hair. Brown. A color they have not seen on hair before, for everyone they ever knew had the black hair that they were born with. 

At pleads and requests, Jaemin found himself smiling as he bends his head forward for the dozens of small hands to touch and feel his hair. Some of the naive kids streaked when touching it, as if it shocked their skin. Others were in awe at the way the brown shines. He allowed himself to indulge in questions that the kids had about him, answering them all enthusiastically. 

It was only when he looked over to Huang Renjun that he noticed the raven-haired boy crossing his arms and smiling at the scene. When he caught Jaemin’s eye, Renjun’s smile dropped into a smaller one and he nodded.

“They’re kids, Jaemin,” Renjun commented from afar, “Not statistics.”

  
  


That night, as Jaemin climbs into his bed, legs sore from a long day of walking around, he lights the gasoline lamp laying on the nightstand, until it flickers shadows onto the wall. Outside, he could hear the crickets again, or maybe they were cicadas. Either way, that eerie feeling settled into his brain again, of everything being a little too quiet despite the loud noises of nature. He sighed and ran fingers through his just-washed hair and laid back against the feather-stuffed pillow. 

He thought of Seoul: the glittering lights, the loud music of night clubs, the evenings spent in the lounge of his university, downing shots at the occasional parties he goes to, having internet access. 

And then he thought of his day, more potently, Renjun. The raven-hair boy was a piece of work, he figured. More than a decade had passed, and he couldn’t tell if Renjun was the same or different. Had the boy always been this headstrong about Jebaek? Had he always had the ability to see past everyone’s intentions and psychoanalyze every move they make? Had he always harbored this disdain towards city-folk? Had he always had that laugh? That melodic laugh that could quickly turn into a sneer sharper than a thousand knives. 

Jaemin opened his notebook, and at the end of the several pages he had taken up today, he wrote. 

~~Day 1. Population.~~ Done. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jaemin wakes up early again the next morning, once more unable to sleep from lack of white noise. The bed was not his bed. The room was not his dorm. The village was not his home. The sheets felt sticky underneath his legs. He had left the window open all night, hoping that a breeze will shift inside and make him a little less hot. He even stripped down to his underwear, but a sheen of humidity still clung to his skin. 

5:00 A.M. The sky was still dark, tinted a teal blue from the creeping sun that still cannot be seen past the mountains, and Jaemin decides to go on a walk again. 

He climbs out of bed, and slips on new clothes. Black shirt, black pants. The black shirt stretches across his shoulders, leaving a slight outline where the muscles of his upper body were. When he steps outside, the cool morning air was a welcome greeting. He hears roosters in the far distance. Once again, he allows his feet to walk. The cobblestone made clicking sounds against the heel of his Japanese-factory made sneakers. Other than that, no one was outside. Windchimes were the loudest noise hanging above people’s doors. 

When he reached the edge of the village again, Jaemin couldn’t say he was completely surprised to see Huang Renjun carrying a long pipe over to the same hole he was working on yesterday morning. Jaemin asks himself if he’s ready to face Renjun’s sarcastic and nagging personality this early in the morning, but decides fuck it. 

Quietly he walks, feet stepping on wet morning dew, until he came up shy just a couple feet from his old friend.

“Do you do this every morning?” Jaemin asked, breaking the sudden silence.

Renjun falls backwards once more until his bottom hits the grass, and he looked up at Jaemin incredulously.

“I told you yesterday that you _can’t_ just sneak up on me like that,” Renjun complained, before pulling himself up. 

“Technically,” Jaemin corrected, hands in his pocket, “You were only starting to say that, and then you got distracted by my incredible looks.” 

Renjun looked at him with an amused expression, “Incredible looks without an incredible personality to match, I see.” 

Jaemin shrugged with a hint of a smirk, “Well, we can’t have everything, can we.” 

Renjun rolled his eyes at that and bent back down near the whole, where several layers of different material lay. He carried the pipe and inserted it through a thin film covering the large hole that resembled a well. 

“To answer your question, yes,” Renjun then replied, “I do this every morning from the crack of dawn to whenever I finish. It takes about two hours.” 

Jaemin nodded, walking around to observe whatever it was Renjun was doing, “What is it?”

Renjun didn’t take his eyes off his task, “A water filtration system, so that the village has fresh drinking water. Every morning, I go from the springs to here with that pipe,” He gestured to the long pipe he was holding, “to transfer water into this well. The well has three filtration layers: one with sand, one with rocks, and one with charcoal to purify the water. I go back and forth until there’s enough drinking water in the village for a day.” 

And then Renjun looked up at Jaemin, “Did you write that down? In your notebook?”

Jaemin shook his head, “No. I was just asking out of curiosity.”

Jaemin was impressed. It was an effective system. 

Renjun hummed in response. 

“Why are _you_ doing this every day? Does no one help?” Jaemin then asked.

Renjun smiled, shaking his head, “No one bothers to learn how to do it. They assume I’ll just do it, and they’re right. I don’t mind too much. I’m just used to it at this point.” 

“That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

“A little,” Renjun admitted, “But what can I do, you know? They need water, and I’m the only one who bothers to do this.”

Jaemin stands there for a moment not saying anything. He wasn’t really sure what to do, for Renjun was busy and he was doing quite literally nothing. 

“So where are you taking me today? It’s your day,” Jaemin then asked. He forgot to sound interested, because his voice came out a little bored.

Renjun noticed and snorted, “You could at least act like you’re a little excited.”

Jaemin laughed, and palmed at the nape of his neck, “I just want to get it over with.” 

“You’ll regret those words later,” Renjun tsked while rolling his eyes, and then put the pipe down before standing up to face Jaemin, wanting to look tough but pales in comparison to the larger stature of Jaemin. Renjun had not failed to notice how the black shirt stretched across the man’s broad shoulders. 

“That sounds a little ominous,” Jaemin retorted. 

“Do you like waterfalls?” Renjun suddenly asked, seemingly out of nowhere. 

“Wha-” Jaemin began, “I mean, yes?” He said this, without remembering when the last time he actually visited one was. There were none in Seoul, as far as he knew. He just knew that he liked waterfalls. 

“Do you know why?” Renjun inquired, stepping a bit closer.

“...” He thought about it, confused, “What do you mean?"

"Do you know why you like waterfalls?" Renjun repeated, impatiently. 

Jaemin shrugged his shoulders, "No, I guess?" 

“Then I’ll help you remember why you do,” Renjun said before reaching over to grab a hold of Jaemin’s hands, large and masculine against his own slender ones, which were still soft yet a little calloused from work. Renjun was surprised to see how comfortable they fit, but he paid it no further mind and started walking away. 

Jaemin let himself get pulled by the hand, legs following behind as Renjun ventures even farther past the village. It was still dark outside. Above them, the moon still shown even though it was quickly on its way out of the sky. They kept on walking, a far distance. Renjun doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time, as if Jaemin would run away if he did. 

They venture into the mountains, and although they were not walking on a clear path, Huang Renjun seemed to know where he was going. It was dark, and it took a moment for Jaemin’s eyes to adjust and even make out the general shape of Renjun’s small body. They stepped on twigs and branches, making a crackling noise that echoed through the woods. They were going deeper and deeper. Jaemin would not be surprised if Renjun was taking him to where he hides his bodies. 

“You come here often?” Jaemin asked, not knowing exactly what ‘ _here_ ’ was, only that Renjun seemed to know the path like the back of his hand. 

Renjun shook his head from in front of him, “No. I haven’t been here in fourteen years.” 

“You seem to know your way around,” Jaemin spoke.

He shrugged in response, feet moving quickly, “Muscle memory. My body remembers the path.”

“That’s not very comforting.”

“Just shut up and follow,” Renjun groaned, tightening his grip on Jaemin’s hand. 

They must have been walking for another ten minutes or so. Jaemin was becoming increasingly concerned that they were getting more lost by the minute, even if Renjun didn’t show it. However, as they moved closer and closer, Jaemin could hear something in the distance. Roaring. Like a loud sigh that went on for too long. The roaring was followed by soft crashes. It was such a _familiar_ sound, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It was as if his body remembered, even if his mind didn’t. 

That roar. The crashing. It was all so familiar. 

And suddenly, Jaemin felt his legs moving forward faster. Even faster than Renjun’s, until it was Jaemin who led the way now. Renjun followed behind him, looking expectantly at Na Jaemin who seemed to be in his own world. What surprised Renjun the most was the fact that Jaemin, who was now in front, was actually going in the right direction. 

Jaemin was suddenly thrusted fourteen years in the past, until instead of his strong 21 year old legs, he saw short 6 year old ones, covered in grass and dirt. Instead of seeing unfamiliar woods blanketed in early morning darkness, he saw the familiar path that his body memorized even if his mind didn’t. He knew what was ahead, small memories coming back in little slices of 3 second intervals triggered by the roaring he heard in the distance. 

Small little flashbacks that kept replaying as he let his feet carry him. Bobbing raven black hair of a childhood friend as they ran together in these woods, on this path, so long ago. The roaring of a fun-filled place they found while escaping their parents one day before lunch. The laughter of two small children, barely able to run correctly without tripping on branches a million times. He kept running, letting his body carry him.

Jaemin stopped at the edge of a small 5 foot cliff that formed the shape of a bowl crater, made of pure granite rock that shone bright under the moonlight, still there despite it being early morning. Renjun caught up, having unclasped their hands mere moments ago. 

The cliff was more of a crater that surrounded an entire basin pool of crystal clear water. Five feet below was the clearest pool he had ever seen, with shimmering water that was so transparent that they could see to the bottom from above. 

And straight ahead was the source of the pool: a gorgeous, cascading waterfall. The waterfall was only about twenty feet in height, with waters that fanned out like ribbons along the sides of the cliff, if it could be called a cliff. The white liquid spilled like melted moonlight into the pool below in a crashing roar, like thunder almost. Small trees hung over it, blooming with pretty flowers that would fall occasionally onto the water’s surface, causing a small ripple. It was an oasis. A swimming hole open to the gorgeous early morning sky, still so dark and beautiful.

Jaemin looked back at Renjun, who stood there teetering back and forth on his feet with his head cocked to the side, as if waiting for Jaemin to say something or give a reaction. Jaemin just looked at his old friend for a moment, and remembered the little kid he used to be: with messy black hair whose fringes hung over his eyes unflatteringly and lanky legs and arms. Renjun was not that kid anymore. But here they were anyways, in a place they used to call theirs, from a time he can only remember snippets of. 

Jaemin then reached down to the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, tossing it on the granite rock. His upper body was bare, and he didn’t think twice about it. Strong biceps, triceps, chest, waist, abdomen, shoulders. He had it all, and Renjun knew it. His eyes flicker for only a second. And then Jaemin stripped down to his boxers. 

Renjun didn’t move, and Jaemin had noticed then. Looking over at the boy, Jaemin urged him curiously.

“Well, aren’t you going in?” Jaemin asked, gesturing to the pool five feet below them. All they needed to do was jump.

Renjun snapped out of whatever daze he was in, and nodded, not saying anything back. It didn’t take him long to strip out of his plain cotton shirt and pants. All that was left of him was his skin and undergarments. Renjun was not ashamed of his slender body in the slightest, but he would be lying if he didn’t feel suddenly so tiny in comparison to Na Jaemin. Jaemin was not ashamed in looking either, eyes lingering on his childhood friend’s body for just a moment, not thinking too much about anything in particular, before looking below him. 

He jumped. The water shocked his body upon impact, its cold blanket was refreshing on his sweat-stained skin. When he opened his eyes underwater, he could see the pale moonlight filtering in past the surface. Only to be disrupted by the sudden crash of another body breaking through the water’s crystal clear surface: Renjun had just jumped also. They sink down, letting the cold water embrace their bodies, before rising up to the surface for air. They both came up with a loud gasp, hands wading to the side to keep them upright. 

The waterfall looked even more magnificent and beautiful from this angle, where they had to look up to see where it fell from. Gorgeous ribbons of water spraying like mist onto their faces. They were in a waterfall quarry that surrounded them on almost all sides like a bowl. The only way up was to climb on the thicket of rocks until they reached the top of the granite slabs. It was so beautiful in the dark, like something out of a fairytale. 

They swam around, enjoying the scenery and the strange company they kept. A soothing feeling came upon them once they got used to the cold of the water. It felt like a dream. Or a memory. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

The two swam until they were in an area where they could feel the pebbly ground underneath their feet, with the water still going up to their neck. There were several large submerged boulders here, where they could climb on if their legs and arms got tired of swimming. 

Renjun was in awe at the beauty around him. If he was being honest, he had _almost_ forgotten this place existed until he had heard the news that Jaemin was coming back, so to him, it was almost like a rediscovery. 

He smiled while looking up at the top of the waterfall and he pulled himself up to sit on a slippery boulder that broke the water’s surface by a couple inches, enough so that he could sit on top of it. 

Jaemin climbed up himself moments later and let out a loud laugh as he did so, “How did I forget this place?”

"Same reason why you forgot me," Renjun replied.

Jaemin laughed, "You're not hung up over that are you?"

"Of course not," Renjun defended, "We were _seven_." Renjun dragged out the word 'seven' for emphasis. 

The brown-haired boy, now with matted wet hair, hummed in response, "So what is what reason, then? Why I forgot, if you're so clever." 

Renjun laid back, his hair slightly dipped into the water, “Because. City slicker caught up in your city life.” 

Jaemin chuckled and laid back with him, “What’s up with you and your hate for the city, _villager._ ”

Renjun propped himself up and his elbow and gave Jaemin a look as if he was about to smack him, “You seriously did not just call me that, did you?”

“What?” Jaemin asked with a nonchalant shrug, “I told you yesterday. If you keep calling me a city-slicker, I’ll start calling you a villager.” 

“But you _are_ a city-slicker,” Renjun poked at Jaemin’s shoulder, not surprised that it was tough with muscle. 

“And you,” Jaemin looked at him, “are a villager, are you not?”

Renjun’s mouth was gaped slightly and then he closed it when he realized Jaemin wasn’t technically lying, “Okay, whatever.”

They laid there quietly for a moment, listening to the roar of the water’s cascade.

“No really,” Jaemin kept imploring, “What’s with your vendetta against me and the city?”

Renjun did it again. He let out that pretty melodic laugh, that could pass as a tune, “I don’t have anything against you, Jaemin. You are, after all, a very precious part of my childhood memories. I just have something against your obvious superiority complex against people who aren’t from the city.” 

“Superiority complex, huh?” Jaemin thought on the words, “And why do you say that?”

Renjun pursed his lips, wondering how to word this, “Think about it. You’re coming here to Jebaek, with your prestigious university thesis. And your whole purpose of coming back is to study us as if we’re lab rats or cavemen. As if we need to be studied like a different species of human compared to you.” 

Jaemin hummed in acknowledgement, “That may be the case, but do you blame me for thinking that?”

Renjun thought about it. He thought about it for a hot minute, and then sighed, “I guess not. You don’t know any better. Or at least, you can’t remember any better.”

Jaemin smiled at the irony, “Who has the superiority complex now, Renjun.”

“Hm?”

“You’re the one saying I don’t know any better. Because I’m some city-slicker. And I’m the one thinking _you_ don’t know any better, because you’re some villager. We’re both in checkmate here, Renjun,” Jaemin explained. 

Renjun looked at his old friend. Jaemin may be a soulless city boy, but Renjun could tell: he wasn’t stupid. Na Jaemin knew how to play his words right and give Renjun a run for his own money. For some reason, it excited him. 

Renjun admitted, not afraid of being called out, “You’re right. But I’m going to prove it.”

“Yeah?”

“I am,” Renjun reaffirmed, “Just watch.”

Silence, they lay listening to the waterfall and occasionally, a nocturnal bird's chip.

And then Renjun asked once more, “Tell me again, Na, do you like waterfalls?”

Jaemin pulled himself up and looked at Renjun, who was still laid back on the rock in the middle of the pool basin, and gave Renjun a curious grin. He then looked at the sight around him. A little bit of purplish orange peeked at the horizon, not enough to illuminate the sky but just enough to warm them that daybreak was coming. 

He then looked down at Renjun, whose black hair was slick with water, “I do.”

Renjun pulled himself up then too, “And do you remember why you like them _now_?” 

Jaemin chuckled, shaking his head at Renjun. Renjun, who always wanted to prove a point. Renjun, who always needed to be right. Jaemin let him be right this time, “I do.”

They don’t rush to go back. In fact, that was the last thing they did. Instead, as the sun rose on the horizon and enveloped the sky in a hazy yellowish-orange glow, it only made the waterfall basin look more luminous. The whitish blue hue that the waterfall had from the moonlight had been replaced with the color of fire from the morning sun. 

The yellow bounced off of the thin ribbons and reflected back onto the surface, where a thousand rays of sunflower yellow and burnt umber orange scattered on the surface like lava. Instead of heading back, Jaemin and Renjun continued swimming. They lounged about the waterfall until their fingers were pruned and their skin was cold as ice from the water. Occasionally, Jaemin would have small snippets of memories flood his mind for a couple seconds, of this exact thing happening more than a decade ago. And then, he was back at the present, where Renjun was splashing him with an arm full of water. 

When the afternoon arrived, the sun was at the highest point and beat down on their skins. Even then, neither of the boys made a move to head back. Renjun said that there was nothing particularly important to do that day. Jaemin said that he’s already sacrificing every other day he was here to Renjun’s nostalgia trip, so he might as well stay. Neither wanted to admit that they stayed simply because it was fun. 

When the sun got too hot or the water made their skin too pruny, Jaemin found a small opening in the rocks behind the waterfall that they were able to climb into, until they were directly behind the wall of falling water. Here, the sun was not able to reach them. The shallow caves behind the waterfall were dry enough for them to relax and cool themselves in. The flooring was flat enough to lay down in. 

It was the blissful peace that took Jaemin’s mind off of the thesis temporarily. For a moment there, he forgot a world existed beyond this waterfall, this basin, this company. 

They do eventually head back, but only because both of them were hungry. It was 4 P.M. or so, and they had spent far too long at the waterfall. However, it felt like no time at all. Sun soaked and clothes wet from being thrown on with their skin still slick with water, they head back. This time, it was slower. No fast paced walking through the darkness of dawn. They took their time, bodies already exhausted from having swam all day. Jaemin didn’t have to let Renjun lead him back this time. His body felt like he knew the way, as if something clicked in place. So he let himself walk side by side with his old friend. Evening sunlight filtered in hazily through the thicket of the tree canopy.

“I never actually asked you,” Jaemin spoke, feet crunching on the ground as he walked, “how you’ve been living, after all these years”

Renjun smiled, looking up through the thicket of trees, “It’s alright. I wouldn’t know where to start telling you.”

Jaemin nodded, “You can start by telling me what you do.”

“Aside from chores around the village, I carve,” Renjun said, “I carve small stone sculptures or scenery. It started as a hobby, but people started to notice and wanted to buy them. Nowadays, merchants come in and buy them from me to sell here and there.”

“That doesn’t sound like it makes a good living,” Jaemin commented.

Renjun rolled his eyes, “You should see my work then. You wouldn’t be saying that then.”

“Then I’ll look forward to it.” Jaemin replied. They walk a little more in a peaceful quiet.

“How about you, Jaemin?” Renjun asked, “What are you studying to become?”

“A sociologist for this huge mental research center,” Jaemin responded as if rehearsed.

Suddenly, Renjun began laughing, shaking his head. 

“What?” Jaemin questioned. 

“If I know anything about you, it’s that you cannot stand to be bored,” Renjun replied, hintingly. 

“Well, you don’t know me,” Jaemin responded, “It’s not boring. It’s an interesting job.”

“It has interesting _pay_ , is what you mean to say,” Renjun corrected, brushing aside the crude comment from the brown haired boy. 

Jaemin chuckled and looked over at the smaller, “Maybe _you_ should be the one working in mental research. You’re the one who seems to know what everyone's thinking.” 

“What can I say? It’s a gift,” He snickered. 

“And a curse. Maybe one day, you won’t want to know what people are thinking,” Jaemin played at the idea. 

“Maybe,” Renjun admitted, “But that day hasn’t come yet.”

“Keyword: yet,” Jaemin remarked. 

  
  


When they arrived back at the village, they were ushered by a group of people, including Mrs. Rin, Renjun’s parents, and members of various families, to a pavilion near the center of Jebaek. Renjun explained to Jaemin that most nights, a lot of them all have dinner with each other in a communal space. There was a loose rotational system over who cooks, and when suppertime comes, whoever wants to come eat can just show up. 

Figuring he has nothing better to do, Jaemin agrees to stay for dinner. Having met all of the people yesterday, he did not find it awkward to have dinner with the group. He nudged Renjun, asking if he would stay also. The black-haired boy seemed hesitant for some reason, but ultimately agreed, finding a seat next to him at a long table. His friends who were sitting nearby, were surprised to see Renjun at the table with them and treated it as some sort of ordeal.

On the table were an assortment of dishes: steamed white rice, sauteed fish, various vegetable stir fries, and numerous side dishes dotted the table. Hungry, both boys were quick to eat up, wanting to catch up on all the meals they had missed today while out swimming in the waterfall. 

Na Jaemin enjoys the food immensely, and would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the company at the table also. No one was offstandish to him, and everyone was eager to make conversation with one another. Renjun’s friends sat near him, and indulged both of them in strange talks about anything that goes on. 

Jaemin doesn’t know how long dinner had lasted, but it surely had not been long enough for people to start heading back. He had been sitting there for a while now, engaging in various conversations to people he barely met and gorging himself of well-deserved food. 

He hadn’t noticed Renjun had gotten up out of the table until he felt a shift of weight besides him. 

Jaemin turned around to see the boy was climbing down the steps of the open pavilion and heading towards some direction away. Odd, dinner hadn't even completely finished yet. 

He furrowed his brows in confusion and then turned to Zhong Chenle, who had been very kind and talkative to him, “Chenle.”

“Yeah?”

“Where is Renjun going?” Jaemin asked while gesturing his head in the direction of his old friend. 

“Ah,’ Chenle understood and waved his hand as if it was nothing, “He always goes off around this time. Usually, he takes his dinner to wherever it is he goes to.”

"Why?"

Chenle shrugged, "Who knows."

“Does he do that every night?” Jaemin asked, curious. 

Chenle nodded, “For as long as I’ve known him.”

“Interesting,” Jaemin remarked and then looked back at the retreating figure in the darkness. He glanced back down to his plate and decided he was full. And also curious.

Excusing himself from the table, Jaemin found his legs walking quietly down out of the pavilion towards the direction he had seen Renjun heading in. His legs, faster and quieter, made good distance until once more, he could see the smaller boy’s back as he continued walking, as if he had some place to be. 

Jaemin didn’t know how long he had been walking, but Renjun finally stopped when he reached the west end of the village, a little while away from the nearest building, but close enough to see the lights of kerosene lamps behind him. In front of them now was a clearing that led into a vast maze of corn. Stalks upon stalks of it that reached high above both of their heads; however, they were at an incline on a small hill, so they could actually see the entire field from a vantage point above. It stretched on for what seemed like forever, and with every breeze, the stalks and bristles swayed that way. Under the moonlight, the yellow of the corn stalks shone a pale white. 

A raggety, brown wooden bench sat facing the fields from on top of the hill, and Renjun sat himself down on it, bringing his knees up to his chest while looking out. Jaemin stood at a distance, watching the harmless scene. 

“Is there any particular reason why you come here every night?” Jaemin asked, walking forward. 

Renjun seemed to jump out of his seat and turned around, placing a hand on his heart out of shock. 

“The only moment of silence I get during the day, and you’re going to disrupt it too?” Renjun asked, tilting his head to the side, not actually seeing Jaemin but acknowledging his presence. 

“So is that why you come here? For some peace and quiet?” Jaemin chuckled, “I’m not sure if you noticed, Renjun, but this village is the definition of quiet.”

Renjun shook his head and patted on the bench right next to him. Jaemin walked over and took a seat.

“When everyone knows your name, where you live, and calls you to do something every day, it doesn’t feel as quiet anymore,” Renjun explained and then gestured out at the moonlit field of corn, “Here, it’s truly quiet. No one goes out here, so it feels like my little spot where I can just be by myself. Here, no one knows me.” 

Jaemin suddenly felt as if he was intruding on something private, “Should I leave?”

Renjun shook his head _no_ , “You can stay. You don’t really know me either, so it doesn’t make too much of a difference.”

Jaemin chuckled and then leaned his back against the wooden bench, “Why here?”

Renjun shrugged, “Habit, I guess.”

Jaemin waited for Renjun to explain. 

“You and me used to have all those cool places we would sneak off to when we want to escape how boring Jebaek can be, right? Places like the waterfall we went to today.” Renjun started, staring out onto the cornfields. 

“Right,” Jaemin affirmed. 

“After you left, I didn’t really want to go back to those places anymore because I was an angsty seven year old kid,” Renjun laughed, cringing at how dramatic his younger self was, “So when I wanted to run away and be by myself, I would run into these cornfields and get lost in them for hours until I eventually find my way out. In there, no one would find me, and I can just be happy by myself.” 

Jaemin listened. 

“I don’t actually go in there anymore, just sit here. I’m a grown man and I don’t run away from things. But I still use this place, out of habit, like an outlet after a long day of stress or interacting with people. It’s really one of the only times when I can be with just my own thoughts,” Renjun pursed his lips while playing with a chip of wood coming off the bench. 

“And you’ve been doing this for how long, now?” Jaemin asked, acknowledging Renjun’s explanation.

Renjun thought about it, looking up at the clear night sky, “Fourteen years? I even know the amount of steps it takes to get from my house to this very spot. I’ve been here so many times.”

“Oh really?” Jaemin asked with slight curiosity, “How many steps does it take?”

“381,” Renjun replied with a smile. 

Jaemin let out a laugh into the night sky, looking out to the horizon where the fields seems to stretch forever. 

Renjun looked over, wondering what Jaemin thought to be funny, “What?”

Jaemin shook his head, “Nothing.”

“No, what is it?” Renjun asked again, poking at Jaemin's shoulder. 

Jaemin looked at him, “381. Do you know any English?” 

“A little, from books,” Renjun responded, unsure why Jaemin was asking. 

“Well, in English,” Jaemin explained, “381 is an acronym. 3 words. 8 letters. 1 meaning.”

“Which is?”

“I love you,” Jaemin spoke, “See? 3 words. 8 Letters. 1 Meaning. 381.”

Renjun looked slightly shocked from the use of such words, but he understood the point Jaemin was trying to make. 

He shook his head with a stupid grin, “It’s just the number of steps it takes to get here, Jaemin.”

“I know,” Jaemin said, staring up at the moon, “I just thought it was curious.”

"Hm," Renjun acknowledged, "That is curious."

They sit there in a peaceful silence. Jaemin was too exhausted to bicker, for they had quite a day. Renjun didn't seem to mind. The raven-haired boy looked as if he was lost in his thoughts. 

"In the city, does it get tiring? Meeting new people all the time?" Renjun asked suddenly, "I can't imagine you'd be close to everyone."

Jaemin thought about it, and shrugged, "It gets a little tiring. It's more difficult to come across real friends, especially when everyone is caught up with their own lives."

Renjun hummed in response. 

Jaemin then asked, "How about you? In Jebaek, does it get tiring? Never meeting new people? Being limited to only the few people you do know?"

Renjun wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to respond with the truth. Because if he did, it felt a little bit like conceding to the question. But he figured, here, in his spot, was the only place where he allowed himself to be truthful and _himself_. What would be left of it if he began lying. So he told the truth. 

"A little," He admitted, "I guess that's why I'm pretty good at...what do you call it? Psychoanalyzing?...I'm surrounded by the same couple hundreds of people every moment of every day, so I know all types of personalities like the back of my hand. Quirks. Gestures. Thought processes. It does get a little old, when there's nothing new to explore."

"So me coming here must be refreshing, huh?" Jaemin chuckled. 

Renjun smiled, not denying it, "It is. Until I figure you out too. Then you'll be the same, like the rest of them."

"What makes you so sure that you'll figure me out?" Jaemin asked, turning to look over to the side where Renjun was still sitting, knees pulled up on the bench. 

"I just am," Renjun offered as a response, with no tangible proof to back him up, just _feeling_.

Na Jaemin nodded his head with a slight challenging grin, "Well, you have 48 more days to figure me out then."

"48 days..." Renjun repeated, words simmering on his tongue, "I can do that." 

"Can you now?"

"I can," He said with resolution. At least, he _thinks_ , ' _I can.'_

That night, Renjun comes home to his pretty little house on the South end of Jebaek. The front end looks out onto the cobblestone streets and hills lined with homes. The back end looks out upon a small dragon fruit field, rows and rows of it. He lived by himself, mostly because he earned enough money to build himself a place of his own and partially because he needed a workspace to himself. He had an entire room dedicated to his ongoing stone carvings, and where he displayed his proudest works. The living room was cozy, and had enough furniture to entertain his friends when they come to relax. 

But it is his bedroom, upstairs, that he resides in the most. It had the feeling of being lived in: with papers scattered here and there, plushies all over the bed, warm fur comforters, and keepsakes on his shelves alongside a couple dozen books. He had a cork board on his wall, where he would pin things that he deem worthy of his current time. 

On it, was a piece of paper. He had a list, much like Jaemin’s own list of topics he needed to cover for the thesis. However, Renjun’s list was an entirely different subject, yet formatted the same. Instead of Jaemin’s odd numbers, Renjun had even numbers. For the days he held in his palm. Day 2, Day 4, Day 6, and so on. Jaemin had all the days in between. Climbing off his bed, he walked over to where the list was pinned with a tack, and grabbed a pen from off his desk. 

~~Day 2. The waterfall~~ Done.

  
  
  


Na Jaemin, on the _other_ side of Jebaek, laid flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Once again, it was too quiet. He had nothing to write in his notebook today: no facts, no statistics, no information, no subject. Yet it still felt as if he ended the day having learned something. 

He learned that Huang Renjun was not going to make things easy. Not for his thesis. Not for his mental health, probably. But he also learned that even then, Jaemin had enough curiosity in him to stick around. To stick around and see exactly what this interesting raven-haired boy knows. To stick around and uncover exactly what it was that made Renjun the way he was, calculating, cautious, yet charming in a way. To stick around and allow the man to take him on more adventures, like they had today. 

At least, for 48 more days. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18k words ahead, in case  
> you're busy & want to leave adfasdf  
> also im so sorry for the mess  
> ahead
> 
> song: Take Yourself Home - Troye Sivan

  
  


“Tell me about communications,” Jaemin asked. It was his Day 3 topic. 

Renjun was currently sitting on the edge of Jaemin’s bed, having came in without any prior notice. Jaemin still wasn’t sure how to feel about that: the fact that everyone and anyone can come into each other’s homes without permission. He had been laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling once more, when Huang Renjun had come barging in and plopped himself on the end of the bed, slapping Jaemin’s foot in the process telling him to _get up_. 

Renjun gave a confused look, “Communications?” 

“As in,” Jaemin pulled himself up to a sitting position, his hair messy from having laid down. He looked at Renjun, “How do people in Jebaek talk to each other when they’re not together?” 

To prove his point further, he fished out his cell phone from his pocket and showed it to Renjun, “In the city, we use these. They’re called ce-”

“I know what cellphones are, Jaemin,” Renjun rolled his eyes.

“Right,” Jaemin nodded, and then he paused. A look of confusion came over his face, and Jaemin questioned, “Wait, how?” 

Renjun ended up laughing harder than he intended to. The look of genuine perplexion on his old friend’s face over something so stupid made him crack up. 

Renjun gave a bright smile, and looked at Jaemin as if _he_ was the naive one, “We aren’t _cavemen_ , Jaemin. We might not use cell phones, but we know what they are. Merchants traveling through always have them.”

“Ah,” Jaemin said, slightly embarrassed. 

“Besides,” Renjun remarked, “You know I read books and newspapers, right? I know more about your world than you’d think.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jaemin asked, resting his chin on his palm as he looked at Renjun, “Tell me then.” 

Renjun looked around for a moment, before resting his eyes back on Jaemin, who gave him a challenging look. Renjun then looked down and reached a hand out to lay his fingers on the fabric of Jaemin’s sports joggers. Na Jaemin gave him a cautious and curious look. 

“Pants. Factory made, just like everything you own,” Renjun looked up at Jaemin without letting the fabric slip from his fingers, “Just like everything that everyone owns. In your world, everything is mass produced and probably made in a sweatshop using all that fancy technology you rave about.”

Jaemin narrowed his eyes, “Not alwa-”

“Not always, I know. But you’d be lying if you told me most of it wasn’t,” Renjun said before reaching his hands up to trace over the Ralph Lauren logo of Jaemin’s gray shirt, “Shirt. It’s designer, right? Your world cares a lot about these, right? I’ve heard of some brands. Louis Vuitton. Balenciaga. Yves Saint Laurent. You let those names dictate how people see you, right?” 

Jaemin stayed silent this time. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but he figured that Renjun would not allow him a chance to speak. So he’ll have his piece afterwards. 

Renjun continued, but this time, he scooted closer and leaned forward nonchalantly, until his head was close enough to Jaemin’s chest so that he could take a deep whiff of the city-boy, “Cologne. You know those are full of harsh chemicals, right? Things that could kill a bull in seconds. Your world would put anything and everything on your body if it means you’re a bit more attractive.”

Huang Renjun, while he was speaking, would not admit that the smell was _so_ good, almost intoxicating and alluring on Na Jaemin’s body. But alas, he moved forward, placing a slender wrist around Jaemin’s silver watch.  
“A watch,” He said, “Because time is everything to people like you. Every second, every minute. You’re too busy counting it that you forget to live it.” 

Renjun continued, but this time, moved his hands up to run soft, pretty fingers through Jaemin’s course brown hair. Jaemin let him., “Hair. Dyed brown. Your world will do everything except accept yourself for who you are and what you were born with. Always altering and changing things about your appearance, just so y-”

This time, Na Jaemin stops him, and brings his own hand up to remove Renjun’s hand from his hair, yet still held onto it in front of him. Renjun tries to pry his fingers away, but Jaemin didn’t let it slip away. He held it gently, not harsh enough to hurt Renjun. 

“You think you’re so clever, well let me tell you this,” Na Jaemin said while pulling Renjun just a little closer using his hands, “I wear my clothes because it feels good to look good. I have designer pieces because I like the way it looks, but I also have plenty of clothing that _aren’t_ designer. You know why? Because I _also_ like the way it looks. I wear cologne because I like the way it smells. I dye my hair because I like the way I look in it.”

Renjun didn’t say anything. 

Jaemin continued, “Not everything has to have some superficial reasoning behind it, Renjun. For a lot of people? You’re right. That is the case. But not everyone. There’s nothing wrong with doing things because it simply makes you happy. There’s nothing wrong with doing things just so that it makes you feel good. That’s not a city thing. That’s not a village thing. It’s a self-respect thing.”

Renjun stayed quiet for a moment, “You’re right.” He said, “But there _is_ something wrong when you’re doing it for other people.” 

Jaemin didn’t deny that, and he didn’t deny that he sometimes did that, “Then don’t. It's as easy as that”

“Renjun,” Jaemin then says, continuing. 

Renjun looked at him, his hand gripped in Jaemin’s. 

“You always talk about how you think I, and people like me, presume things about you and villagers. That you’re this and you’re that. And to a degree, I admit that’s true,” Jaemin says, “But, don’t you think you’re being hypocritical? You’re forcing stereotypes on me and ‘city people,’ are you not?”

Renjun opened his lips to deny it, but could not find himself doing so. He thought about it and then nodded, understanding somewhat how unfair he had been being. He had been so pressed on Jaemin’s stereotypes of him and Jebaek that he had completely been hypocritical by placing stereotypes on Jaemin and _his_ people. 

“You’re right,” Renjun admits. He doesn’t look at Jaemin, not being used to admitting he was wrong, “I’m being a little unfair, aren’t I?”

Jaemin chuckled, and then slowly let go of Renjun’s hand, “A little.”

But a thought still remained in Renjun’s head. He had noticed, earlier, when Jaemin was defending himself, he forgot a pretty vital part of Renjun’s analysis. One that Jaemin hadn’t mentioned at all. 

“Jaemin,” Renjun spoke. The brown haired boy looks up at him, “Then what about time? What I said about time? Time being the utmost important thing?”

Jaemin feels his words catch in the back of his throat at the question. He had been hoping that Renjun had forgotten, but he should have known better. Nothing seems to get past the raven-haired boy. 

Jaemin was not sure how to respond, “I can’t deny that part.” 

That was all that needed to be said. Renjun understood just from that, and left that conversation on that ending note. A silence fell between them. This was what it felt like when they weren’t arguing, which the past two days had just been filled with. 

Instead, Huang Renjun stood up from his spot on the bed and held a hand out.

“What is this?” Jaemin asks, snorting, “A truce?”

Renjun shook his head _no_ with a small grin, “Of course not. Never.”

“Then what?”

“Come with me.” Renjun says, “You want to know about communications, right? I’ll show you.”

Jaemin eyes the hand, looking up at Renjun through his fringe. Renjun didn’t know why the sight made his knees go weak. He pushed the thought away, assuming that this is anyone’s natural reaction to a good looking person. He admits to himself that Na Jaemin was good looking. It was too bad that good looking was one of the last things he cared about in a partner. But still, the look was scrutinizing. 

Jaemin takes his hand then, and stands up. Once more, Renjun’s stature seems to shrink as Jaemin stands up, encompassing the shadow around him until he stood right at Jaemin’s nose. 

Renjun guides him away, down the stairs, down the porch steps, and back into the streets of the village at 4 P.M. The midday sun had transitioned into a softer, more orange tone of the evening.

Jaemin lets go of Renjun’s hand as they go out on the street, and follows the raven-haired boy. 

They take a couple turns about the village, until they reach the square: where on the side stood a building taller than the rest. It was a bell tower, towering in height and made of strong wood, with a large copper bell on top. Renjun stops in front of the door and looks around the square, to see if anyone was paying attention to them. Jaemin stood idly by, sensing that Renjun was doing something he was not supposed to. 

The raven-haired boy then fishes what looked like a thin piece of wire from his pocket, and stuck it into the lock of the wooden door. 

Jaemin chuckled, “It’s locked. I thought people in Jebaek don’t lock their doors.” 

Renjun rolled his eyes as he keeps trying to jam the wire into the lock, looking for the peculiarly place pin inside. He had only done this once or twice, and each time, it had taken him a ridiculously long time, “We _don’t_. But the bell tower is kept locked so that kids don’t come in and ring it every minute.” 

“Did we do that?” Jaemin asked, smiling, “When we were kids?”

Renjun tried to hide his smile at the memory, as he continued picking, “We did.”

Jaemin, noticing that Renjun was having a bit of a hard time, reached his hand out for the wire while stepping closer to the door, “Here, give me it.” 

Renjun looked up at the man hesitantly, and then handed the wire over. 

Jaemin got close to the door, and stuck the wire through the tiny key hole, where he moved it in an oscillating motion until he could find the first pin, after that, he kept the wire still while pushing it forward until he could lift the next pin. The process went on until the wire was weaved through all six pins of the tumbler lock and then the door opened with a _click_. 

Renjun looked up at his former friend, slightly impressed, “Do you have experience in picking locks or something?” 

Jaemin shrugged, with a slight grin as they both slipped inside, “I was a bit of a troublemaker in high school.” 

“What could you possibly have been picking locks for in high school?” Renjun asked with a light laugh.

They stand now in a relatively dark circular space, where if they look all the way up, they could see spiral stairs climbing along the sides until they could see the top of the bell tower. Hazy sunlight streamed in from the few dust-covered windows. The wood creaked where they were standing on the ground. 

Jaemin had his neck craned up to look to the top and then he glanced over at Renjun, “You want to know?” 

Renjun shrugged, “I mean, I asked, didn’t I?”

Then Jaemin gave him a slight smirk before turning to start up the creaky wooden stairs, “I liked having sex in locked classrooms. It added to the thrill.” 

He turned to see Renjun’s reaction, just for the fun of it. He wondered if the topic would make the boy shy. He wondered if people in Jebaek ever talked about those kinds of things, or participated in those kinds of things. 

To his surprise, Renjun didn’t fluster at all. Instead, the dark-haired boy laughed that pretty laugh and shook his head, “Well, those lock picking skills had come to use, now, haven’t they?” 

Jaemin heads up the stairs first, the steps spiraling along the sides. The scariest part was that there were no railings, so the entire time, both boys had one hand on the wall as if to stabilize themselves from falling off the side. 

When they made it to the top, they climbed through the small opening until they were now surrounded by sunlight as they entered the bell tower room. It hung in the middle, a large rusting copper bell with a rope underneath to pull. The four sides of the bell tower room, also called the belfry, were open to the air with no windows, just arched cut outs into the wood that allowed the two boys to sit on the ledge and look down at the village square and beyond.

Evening sun shone through and made their skin glow golden. Jaemin and Renjun sat on the edge on opposite ends, back leaning against the wood panels and one leg hanging off of the tower and the other one was inside to keep them balanced.

“You got your notebook on you?” Renjun then asked, eyes still glued to the scene before them of Jebaek. 

Jaemin reached into his bag and pulled out the leather bound notebook, “Yes.”

Renjun then brought his leg back up and pull it to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, “In Jebaek, if important information needs to be spread to the whole village, this is how we communicate” He said while gesturing to the bell, “The bell is rung and we all gather in the square.”

Jaemin jots the notes down, “Who gets to ring it?”

“Any of the village elders,” Renjun replied, “It’s usually about changes to the system, upcoming festivities, or maybe to vote on something.” 

Jaemin hummed, writing all of it down, “And how about...when individuals just want to talk to each other?” 

Renjun smiled, looking at his own hands, “Well, what do _you_ do when you want to talk to someone?”

“We text,” Jaemin says, “Or call. Or we go out.” 

Renjun nodded in acknowledgement, “In Jebaek, we _only_ have the option of going out. So if anyone wants to talk to someone, they’d have to go to their house, or go seek them out. It’s not as convenient, but it fosters a stronger community.”

Jaemin leaned forward, forgetting to write down his notes, “You know what we call people like you back in the city?” 

“What?” Renjun asks. 

“Boomers,” Jaemin replied, “You’re always going on about how things were better when people went outside and weren’t cooped up on their phones.” Jaemin said with a shake of the head. 

Renjun laughed, “Don’t get me wrong. I see the appeals and convenience of phones and technology, but you have to admit that sometimes, people get caught up too much in it.” 

Jaemin thought about it and then nodded in agreement, “You’re right. I _would_ be lying. Texting and calling is fine, but I think at the end of the, going out is objectively more fun.”

At this, Renjun leaned forward, curious, “In the city, what all do you do when you go out?” 

Renjun shouldn’t have asked, because then Jaemin scooted forward and began listing things like there was no tomorrow. He told Renjun about amusement parks, and laughed when the raven-haired boy found it impossible to comprehend why people would make themselves scared and throw up for _fun_ . He told Renjun about clubs, and the music, the lights, the body heat.

That didn’t confuse Renjun as much, for the boy knew what those were, but he was curious nevertheless as to what it was _actually_ like. Jaemin found explaining that part particularly difficult. He told Renjun about concerts, and movies. Renjun was particularly interested in the movies part. He knew what movies were, and had seen a couple on small TVs when he would visit larger villages once in a while, but it interested him what a theatre experience was like.

Jaemin couldn’t help but find Renjun’s curiosity a bit cute. The furrowed brows. The slight pout when Renjun didn’t understand the logic behind something. As Jaemin kept on talking, he began to forget exactly what he was here for.

It was only when Renjun mentioned something about Jebaek sending letters when they want to send far away messages that Jaemin remembered he was here to learn about communications. 

Jaemin then found that when he allows Renjun to talk, he _also_ never stops. At least, once he gets Renjun in his element. Jaemin would ask what do people usually talk about in letters, and Renjun would go into tangents about some weird pen pals he has had in the past. Some guy who had a collection of snakes. Someone else who only wrote to him when asking relationship advice but never asked about him. Jaemin listened with a smile, at every story. He couldn’t help it. Renjun’s tangents were interesting to hear. 

“Why didn’t you ever write to me?” Jaemin then asks. 

Renjun leaned back again, back against the wooden panels. He shrugged, “By the time I was old enough to learn how to send letters. I had assumed you were too busy and different to talk to me. And that you forgot.” 

Jaemin thought on it, “I may have forgotten all of our memories, but I would have remembered your name, if nothing else.”

Renjun shrugged and said with a smile, “I was surprised you had even remembered my name when you came back.” 

“It’s one of the few things I did remember,” Jaemin chuckled, almost regretfully. He felt blind in comparison to Renjun, as if the boy had access to a memory archive that Jaemin lost so long ago. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Renjun humored, “I’m sure I wouldn’t have liked you anyways, Na.”

Jaemin laughed and shook his head, “Maybe not. But at least, we wouldn’t be as awkward as we are with each other now.”

Renjun pursed his lips. He didn’t like when awkward situations are called out. It makes it feel even more awkward. It wasn’t as if the two were awkward now per se, but it was more like both of them didn’t know where to start in terms of filling the 14 year gap between them. 

Then Renjun looked up at his old friend, whose eyes were unfairly striking, “We don’t have to be.” 

“What do you mean?” Jaemin raised his head, swinging his left leg off the tower. 

Renjun shrugged his shoulders, “It’s awkward because we’re treating each other like colleagues.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Jaemin asked. 

“Treat me like a friend,” Renjun offers, “And I’ll treat you as one too.” 

Jaemin smiled and ran his fingers through his own brown hair. Renjun eyes trailed that movement before settling back into Jaemin’s own from a distance away, “I told you, I’m here for my th-”

“Thesis,” Renjun finishes for him, “I know. But don’t you think you’ll do your thesis better if we’re not distant with each other? Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable asking me questions if we were...friends again?” 

Jaemin opened his mouth, and then closed it. Renjun had a point. If his old friend was going to be dragging off on little weird excavations every other day, they might as well be friends, “Alright.” 

Silence. The sun was melting into the horizon. Pretty colors graced the sky, and a warm breeze flushed through the belfry where they were sitting. 

“So, _friend_ ,” Jaemin then asks, scooting closer, “Where do we start?” 

Renjun smiled, “We can start by getting your Day 3 topic done. You barely have anything written down.” He gestured his head down to the notebook, which only had the few jots that Jaemin had put in it before. 

Other than those couple of notes, they had been a little distracted that Jaemin didn’t have much information to go on at all. He looked down at his own notebook and nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. 

“And then,” Renjun continued, twirling a single strand of black hair behind his ear, “You can come with me to my field.” 

Jaemin grinned boyishly at that. Renjun’s field, “All 381 steps there?”

Renjun nodded. He affirmed, “All 381 steps there.”

  
  
  
  
  


“I counted,” Jaemin complained, “This is not taking me 381 steps.” 

It was dark outside, during dinner, and the two were nearing the little bench where Renjun usually sat near the corn field. Renjun had made his plate, and left the pavilion before anyone could even get settled down. Jaemin followed suit. They now walked towards the expanse of yellow corn stalks. 

Renjun looked back at his old friend turned new friend with narrow eyes and stuck out his tongue, “That’s because you have longer legs than me, idiot.” 

Jaemin stopped for a moment, thought about it, “Oh right. I forgot you’re small.” 

Renjun reached down to take off one of his sandals and chucked it at Jaemin, hitting his shoulder and bouncing off, “You know what? I’m starting to regret this whole friend thing.” 

They then sit next to each other again, with about two feet in between, on the raggedy bench facing the field. Moonlight fell over the field, casting the yellow corn stalks in a pale white glow. They talked about this and that, not really caring about what comes in.

Even earlier, they had spent quite a while on top of the bell tower belfry, half of the time Renjun was lecturing Jaemin about communications and the other half was little side conversations that branched off of each other. One moment, Renjun would be telling Jaemin about how in the old times, Jebaek used to train black crows to deliver paper messages, and then the next moment, Renjun would branch off into talking about how he had a scar on this back from a crow mauling him when he was ten years old.

And then Jaemin would chime in with stories of his own weird scars, until both would realize they were getting off topic. It was a slow process, but one that was proving to be working, as Jaemin and Renjun got more comfortable with each other’s presence. 

Now, Renjun was crunching on an apple and threw the core in the field in front of him. 

“You can’t come here everyday, you know,” Renjun then says, “I still need my quiet time.” 

“But you don't come here everyday. The first night I was here, you were with me all evening,” Jaemin said, noticing, "Yet Chenle said you did. He said for as long as he has known you, you come here every day.

Renjun shrugged, “Just about everyday. I don’t come when there’s something I have to do in the evening or night. Or if I’m too tired, but other than that, I try to make it here every day. And even when I don't, I'm not really at the pavilion, which is probably why he thinks that. But to a degree, he's right. I like my alone time, and then you come marching up in here.”

Jaemin laughed lightly, “You’re the one who asked.” 

“I know, I know,” Renjun waved his hand in dismissal, “I don’t mind you here once in a while. I think it’s because you’re not permanent. I don’t have to worry about you after you leave. Just don’t come too much.” 

Jaemin nodded in understanding, “That’s fine.” 

“Besides,” Renjun says before joking, “When you leave again, I don’t want it to be like when I was little, where I’d have to boycott every place we went to together.” 

“Of course,” Jaemin replied with a humored smile, “I’ll let you have your field, if nothing else.” 

“Thanks,” He rolled his eyes, “Most considerate thing you’ve done yet.”  
  


Jaemin climbs into bed that night, and he doesn’t bother pulling his blanket up to cover his torso. He knew it’d be too hot. He knew that he’d have a hard time sleeping regardless. The man was surprised that he hadn’t gotten used to the quiet and the humidity already. After all, it’s been three days, which he figured was a reasonable amount of time to get used to a new accommodation. But alas, his hypothesis proved to be false.

He didn’t open the windows tonight, for the cicadas were awfully loud. Louder than usual at least, and he was afraid one might fly into his room as he slept. 

He opens his notebook. He could barely see through the darkness, with the only light coming in from small glass window slits running against the top left wall of his room, the side facing the street. He turns to the bottom of the pages he wrote today, and moves his hands around the nightstand in search of a pen. 

He writes. 

~~Day 3. Communications.~~ Done. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


5 in the morning. He wakes up, as if his body was on autopilot and he needed to wake up at this time like clockwork. Na Jaemin did not move. Instead, he laid there spread out on the sheets. No clothes on his body save for a pair of undergarments, and the blankets had been kicked to the ground throughout the night.

Again, that slight sheen of sweat hugged every inch of his skin. If he ran a hand through his hair, it’d come out slightly moist. Outside, the sky was still dark. Any given person would have easily mistaken it as nighttime, but he knew better. His analog watch said so. 

Jaemin knew Renjun was at the Northern edge of the village again, pumping water from the stream to his filtration system. He chooses not to come today. Today, he doesn’t leave the house. He figured that it bothered his childhood friend more than anything else if Jaemin idly stood around, useless, as he did his daily work.

So instead, Jaemin had taken his pen from the nightstand once more and twirls it around his fingers in the dark like that, laying back on his bed. He just twirls it, while his head thinks. Of what.

Of home once more. He wondered what Mark Lee was doing, his roommate at university. Knowing his friend, he had probably just gotten home from some huge party at 5am and would be sleeping until well after noon. He wondered what Seoul sounded like at five in the morning, probably still busy, still honking cars, still has the laughter of drunk girls and guys walking down the street on their way home. It contrasted so much with Jebaek. 

Here, in Jebaek, Jaemin could mostly make out three sounds in his head if he tries to list it out. 

One, the sound of leaves rustling when a breeze rumbles through the village. It knocks on every door, howls against the wall. 

Two, the sound of crickets and cicadas singing their eerie song at night. It was everywhere they went, surrounding sound all around him. 

Three, the sound of Huang Renjun’s voice. Even if he didn’t want to, the boy’s voice had a certain tone that engrains itself in his head. Jaemin didn’t particularly care for the raven-haired boy past their slowly budding friendship, but he still couldn’t get the song-like sound of his laughter out of his mind. Renjun had one of those voices that just _sticks,_ whether he wanted it to or not. 

Speak of the devil, Renjun comes into Jaemin’s room at 5:42 A.M. 

Na Jaemin knows this because he had been staring at the analog watch on his wrist, waiting for the seconds to tick past until it was noon and maybe then, he’d have something to do. It was still dark outside, but not as dark as it had been before.

Instead of the deep black of the sky at 5 a.m., at 5:42 .a.m., the color was lifting slowly into a very dark teal blue, like that of the deep ocean. Still dark enough that no sun broke through, but light enough that the cawing of roosters could be heard. 

Jaemin heard Renjun before he saw him. Laying in bed, he had heard the sound of the front door opening and then stomping up the stairs. He figured that it could be Mrs. Rin, but he also figured that it could be Renjun, who is the only person in the village at this time who had enough energy to stomp up the stairs like that. He must have woken up extremely early to have been done with his filtration system this quickly, Jaemin thought to himself.

Jaemin reaches over and puts the pen he had been twirling for more than half an hour now back on the nightstand, just as Huang Renjun comes in and stands at the door. In the darkness of early morning, Jaemin could barely make out the boy’s features. Renjun looks at him for a moment, and Jaemin brings himself up to sit. 

Renjun turned his head away, “Put some clothes on.” 

Jaemin chuckled, his voice coming out a lot more coarse than he intended it to. It was his morning voice, “You act like you didn’t just see me swimming like this the other day.” 

But Jaemin obliged anyways, he stood up and went to look for a fresh pair of clothing in the wardrobe across the room. It was hard to see in the dark, but he felt around for the fabrics until he found cotton. 

“I was a little surprised you didn’t come today,” Renjun says, arms crossed gently as he leans against the door frame. Although both of them talked at a normal tone, every sound felt amplified amidst the quietness of early morning Jebaek. 

Jaemin hummed in response, slipping a shirt over his head, “Did you want me to?” 

“No,” Renjun says defensively, “It’s distracting.” 

Jaemin nods as he rummages around for bottoms, “Well, that’s why I didn’t come.” 

And then pauses, and turns to look at his old friend. Even in the darkness, he could see the pretty glint off the whites of Renjun’s soft eyes. Jaemin asks almost playfully, “Is that the reason why you’re here this early? Did you miss me?” 

Renjun shakes his head with a little grin, “No, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Then what do I owe the pleasure?” Jaemin asks, as he slides into a pair of pants. Renjun watches. 

He shrugged, “You seem to have trouble sleeping in late, so you might as well come with me and we can start our day.” 

“Oh really?” Jaemin asks, “Where?” 

Renjun then did that thing again. Where he would not indirectly answer a question, but rather propose a seemingly unrelated question. 

“Do you like salt flats?” He asks. 

Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, “You’re doing that thing again.” 

“What thing?”

“The thing where you ask me something completely unrelated instead of answering my question,” Jaemin replied. 

Renjun rolls his eyes, “Na Jaemin, so do you like salt flats or not?” 

Jaemin’s body wanted him to say yes before his mind could, as if it was some instinct in him to do so. Before he could really comprehend what he was saying, he had said “Yes.” 

“Do you know why?” Renjun asks, leaning off of the door frame and now stands with no support. 

Jaemin was tongue tied. He didn’t know why. He didn't know why he so easily said that without a second thought. But he tried to come up with a reason anyways, “I mean, the ones in Bolivia look pretty cool.” 

“Is that the _only_ reason why?” Renjun implores, stepping a bit closer. 

Jaemin sighs, wanting the boy to get to the point already, “I don’t know. Look, Renjun. No, I don’t know why I like…salt flats, out of all things.”

“Then,” Renjun says. And Jaemin could have guessed his next words before he even says them, “I’ll help you remember why you do.” 

With that, Renjun reaches out once more for Jaemin’s hand, who lets him take it, knowing that Renjun would not have it any other way and he didn’t want to bicker so early in the morning. The raven-haired boy drags the city boy down the stairs and makes him run through the village.

It was so quiet, that their footsteps on the cobblestone sounded incredibly loud. 

They stop in front of a medium sized shed, and Renjun fishes out some metal keys and opens it. He comes back out mere moments later, pushing a bike out. It was one of those classic looking bikes, with the extra metal seat on the back in case someone wanted to ride with the biker. 

“There’s usually a couple in here, but I guess someone borrowed them,” Renjun says, “How fast of a biker are you?” 

“Pretty fast,” Jaemin says, holding the bike by the handle and gauging its capacity, “I sometimes do cycling marathons back in Seoul.” 

“Faster than me?” Renjun asks, making sure. 

Jaemin laughs, “I wouldn’t doubt it.” 

“Then you get on,” Renjun gestured. 

Jaemin does so, steadying the bike with his left side body and looking back nodding, a gesture to indicate that Renjun can climb on now. The boy does, he sits sideways on the back end and wraps his arms around Jaemin’s waist to steady himself. It was definitely not the most comfortable position, but what has to be done will be done. 

After Renjun gets settled, Jaemin asks, “Where to?”

Renjun then directs him. He directs him out of the village until they pass even the train station that Jaemin arrived in Jebaek at. In fact, they pass the train station for a long time, until it was less than a speck behind them.

The entire time, Renjun kept complaining that Jaemin wasn’t going fast enough. The brown haired boy complained, telling the other that he should be grateful that he even agreed to be the biking one at this early time in the morning.

It didn’t matter, for Renjun kept up his consistent complaining, claiming that they needed to get there before the sun rises completely. Jaemin noticed Renjun carried a full backpack, and suggested that they would have gone faster if Renjun had only left his backpack behind. The smaller adamantly said no, that they’d need it. Jaemin didn’t bother arguing, just focused on making his legs pedal as fast as possible with the vague directions Renjun would give.

The dirt road blew dust behind them as they went on, but neither paid any mind. Anytime Jaemin slowed down, Renjun would tickle him a little, making the man want to convulse in his seat. But despite that, it always caused Renjun to laugh that pretty melodic sound again, and Jaemin thinks it’s a little worth it. His old friend may be an irritable brat, but he had a pretty laugh. Jaemin could say that, if nothing else.

At a weird turn onto an overgrown dirt path that almost seemed blocked off, Jaemin while peddling looked up in front of them. Two small gorges, like canyon mountains, opened up a narrow path. The walls of the gorge were a stark white, like limestone.

Like milk. Like salt. _Salt_. Salt flats. Jaemin shook his head to clear his thoughts, unsure why it felt like his brain was being poked at. But the feeling was insistent. It didn’t help that the sides of the gorge looked so familiar. The ridges looked as if he saw them just yesterday. He saw himself swerving away from edges before he even saw them, as if his body knew by instinct. As if he's been here before.

He looked ahead, until through a narrow gap, he could see. A gleam. A shimmer. White expanse. Beyond the gorge, he could see a sliver of it. And all of a sudden, it felt like he wasn’t himself anymore. Instead of a 21 year old Na Jaemin, anthropology student in some rural place working on some ridiculous thesis, he was a boy.

He was a six year boy with his eyes on the stars, on the skies, and on his bestest friend at the time Huang Renjun, who now sat behind him. But he didn’t see that. Instead, Jaemin saw in his head two bikes, smaller ones this time, and two kids riding one after the other through this same gorge more than fourteen years ago. He remembered scraped legs from falling. He remembered Renjun’s seven year old tiny voice yelling at Jaemin to wait for him. He remembered himself never listening, and leaving Renjun to trail behind anyways. 

In the present, Jaemin felt his legs pedal faster than ever. Almost dangerously. His body went where his mind did not, and it beelined its way through the gorge as if his life depended on it. Renjun could feel something shift, and out of caution, he held on tighter to Jaemin’s waist, slightly frightened of how fast he was going.

Renjun did not fail to notice though, how Jaemin knew where the bumps in the road were before they even rode over them. And that’s when Renjun knew: he remembered. 

They broke through the narrow canyon road and Renjun gets off immediately. As soon as he did so, Jaemin let the bike fall to the ground and he stepped forward to stare at the sight in front of him. 

For what seems like eternity, brilliant salt flats stretched to the end of time forward. On either sides were the beginning of treeless mountains, contrary to the lush green ones surrounding Jebaek just a couple miles away. The salt flat wasn’t dry, but instead, had only about a one inch layer of water on top from the river tributaries that leaked in.

The one inch layer of water on top of the salt flat acted like a mirror on the earth, reflecting the sky on its surface until it looked like there _was_ no ground. There was the sky above them, and there was the sky on the ground in front of them. Jaemin had seen pictures of salt flats before. But nothing could compare to witnessing it in real life. 

The sky was the bluish-greenish color of early morning when the sun hadn’t come up yet, and on the surface of the flat reflected that color. There was no crossroads between the heavens and the ground. It was just heavens. When the sun came, it was going to be magnificent, and suddenly, Jaemin understood why Renjun wanted them to arrive before the sun came up. It was necessary. This sight was unforgettable.

Jaemin took off his shoes, and ventured forward. He stepped until he could feel his feet touch the flat. He could sense fine grains of salt underneath his skin and the thin layer of water that the surface reflected off of, and it felt as if he was standing in another dimension. Behind him, Renjun followed suit. 

They kept walking until all around them, they could only see the flats. It was as if the world disappeared, and all of reality poofed into thin air. 

Now, there was only two certainties in life. One. This place was unreal. Two. Huang Renjun was unreal. 

Jaemin looked at his friend, who stared at the ground around them in awe. It can’t even be called a ground. It was more of a mirror, reflecting the heavens. Renjun’s white clothes made him look even more angelic against the scenic backdrop.

And Jaemin couldn’t help but think: if Renjun was going to be taking him to places like this every other day, then he might have to look forward more to Renjun’s days rather than his own. 

He could have stood there forever absolutely stunned by the sight all around him, but he didn’t have time to, before suddenly, Jaemin felt himself get tackled to the ground. 

Renjun had jumped on him, pushing him towards the ground until he fell with a splash of thin water. It disrupted the mirror for only a moment before returning back to its glassy appearance. Renjun got off of him immediately as Jaemin yelled, and started running. 

The raven haired boy’s footsteps making small splashes as he ran. Jaemin pulled himself up, half of his body drenched in the thin layer of salty water, before running after his friend.

Small droplets of water splashes onto their legs and torso as they ran along the endless terrain. Jaemin’s longer legs had no trouble catching up to Renjun, who was then knocked to the ground with an _oomph_ , his front now soaked with water.

Both of them laughed as they fell, and Jaemin rolled off of Renjun until both of them were laying with their backs on the salt flat, the thin inch of water soaking into the fabrics of their already damp clothes. They laid side by side, looking up as the dark teal colored sky begins to brighten, shade by shade. 

“Doesn’t this place make you never want to leave?” Renjun asks, turning over until he was on his stomach and propped up by his elbows. He looked at his own reflection on the surface, and made ripples in it with his fingers. 

“The flats?” Na Jaemin asked, while still staring up at the sky, “Yeah.” 

Renjun turned his head to look at his old friend and offered a suggestion with a slight smile, “Then we won’t have to.” He continued a moment later, “Not today, at least.” 

Jaemin turned his head, “What do you have planned?” 

Huang Renjun gestured in the very far distance where they left all of their belongings, “I packed enough food and water in my backpack that we could stay here the whole day if you want. Come back at night.” 

Jaemin chuckled, “You want to see the stars reflect, huh.” 

Renjun shrugged, “I’ve never seen this place at night before. The brightest stars shine here in Jebaek. It would be a waste not to.” 

“In that case,” Jaemin turned his head back up to the sky, its color brightened by the sun peeking through the horizon now, “Let’s stay.” 

“Yeah?” Renjun asks. 

“Yeah.” 

So they stay. They stay an abnormal amount of time to be in any one place, but every second was worth it. When the sun finally rose and lit up the sky in brilliant morning lights, the rays scattered across the clouds, casting them in an orangish, yellowish glow.

The glow of the sky and the gentleness of the clouds reflected off the surface of the salt flat, and they lay there in what seems to be an orange neverland. From the sky to the ground, it looked as if they were in the midst of a raging fire. All around them. 

Even as the hours in the day slipped by, it didn’t feel like any time has passed. Na Jaemin was afraid they’d run out of things to do, but they never did. Whether it be daring one another to take a gulp of the salt water on the ground or playing slip and slide across the thin surface, it was not an issue to find something to do in order to utilize their beautiful environment.

When the sun was high in the sky, at noon, the bright blue sky and stark white clouds reflected perfectly on the surface of the salt flat, and it looked like they were walking on the clouds themselves. Jaemin and Renjun made a game of hopping only on the clouds, and if they touch the blue of the sky, then they were out. 

It was this childish sense of fun that tore Jaemin’s mind away temporarily from the chaos that was his thoughts. They didn’t feel too old for this, for when they were tired, they’d make the trek back to the side of the salt flat, where all of their belongings lay. 

They’d sit at the edge of the canyon facing the beautiful flats, right underneath the shade, and sip on water while munching on the food that Renjun brought along. 

Renjun was a peculiar conversationalist. It was like his mind was always brimming with curiosity and ideas that when he asked questions, Jaemin would only be halfway through a thought before Renjun interrupted and asked another one, as if there was so little time and too many questions. It wasn’t like his questions were particularly normal either. 

Renjun liked to talk and ask about things that Jaemin couldn’t say he already had formulated thoughts about. He talked about whether birds of different species could understand each other’s chirps. Jaemin didn’t know, but they still had a good twenty minute discussion on the topic. Jaemin was adamant they could. Renjun was even more adamant that they couldn’t. 

He talked about how he’s seen pictures of L.E.D. light displays in books before, but never seen them in real life. Jaemin replies and tells him about how beautiful they can be, and how in Seoul, when he walks down any given nightlife street, there will be an abundance of L.E.D. signs hanging above every karaoke bar or literally anything else. 

They go on like that for a while, and Renjun was surprised that Jaemin listened just as well as he can talk. In a world where everyone wants to talk, where everyone waits for the next time they can speak, it was strange to see someone, especially someone from the city, who was able to listen. Renjun figures it was a part of Jaemin's job here: to listen and annotate.

Whenever Renjun went onto tangents about stupid things, Jaemin still listened intently. It was almost uncomfortable how attentive he was. 

Huang Renjun had noticed that when Jaemin listens, he leans forward with his chin on his palm and stares into his soul, eyes never flickering once, as he does so. The boy’s eyes were intimidating, Renjun thought to himself. Jaemin had a certain gaze in his brown eyes that held so many uncertainties except for the certainty that they were powerful. 

Renjun was in the middle of a story when he suddenly paused, and furrowed his brows at Jaemin. 

“Do you always do that?” He asks. 

Jaemin furrowed his brows in confusion, “Do what?” 

“Stare very intensely at people when they talk?” Renjun clarifies. 

They were still sitting in the gorge. Jaemin’s analog watch reads 2 P.M., and they’re waiting for the bright midday sun to dwindle down a little bit before they’d come back out. 

Jaemin smiles, “Ah, that.”

“So you’re aware?” Renjun curiously ponders. 

“Of course I am,” Jaemin says, “I do it on purpose, after all.”

“Why?” He scrunched up his face, “You know how unnerving it is to be saying something, and you look at me as if you can see into my thoughts?”

Jaemin laughed, “I do it so that people feel like they can’t lie to me. Or put on some facade.” 

“You automatically assume people are going to lie to you?” Renjun gave him a cautious look, “That’s such a city slicker problem to deal with.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes and then sat back against the gorge wall, “You don’t understand, _villager_.”

“Then help me understand.”

Jaemin hesitated and thought about how to say this, “In the city, as much as I love it, we’re always trying to get ahead of each other. There are so many people that everyone feels like an ant in a field of grass. So a lot of the times, people try to put on a fake image that they’re smarter, richer, cooler, better than they actually are because they’re afraid of being average. Because when you live in a city with millions of people, it gets really easy to feel average.” 

“And you?” Renjun asks, “Do you not fall into this same trap?” 

Jaemin shrugs, “Occasionally. Sometimes, I pester myself asking how I can be better, but most of the time. No, I don’t fall into the same trap. I just don’t think I’m average.” 

Renjun raised an eyebrow, “No?”

Jaemin laughed, staring at something he was playing with in his hands, “Look at me and tell me yourself, Renjun. Do you think I’m average?” 

This time he looked up at Renjun, and the raven-haired boy would be lying through his teeth if he said that Jaemin’s appearance didn’t shock him even after 3.5 days together. 

“How do I answer that without feeding into your ego?” Renjun asks, and Jaemin shakes his head laughing. 

Jaemin replies, “You say yes. That’s how.”

“But then,” Renjun countered, “You’d know it was a lie.”

“Are you seriously trying to reverse psychology me right now?” Jaemin asks incredulously. 

Renjun shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, I told you that I was going to figure you out, didn’t I?’

He nodded, “You did.” 

“Well anyways,” Renjun then says, backtracking their conversation, “You don’t have to be afraid that I’m lying or putting a facade around you. I don’t. No one in Jebaek will either. So stop looking at me like that when I’m talking.”

Jaemin grinned, “Why? Does it make you nervous?” 

“To be honest, yes,” Renjun admits with a confident voice. 

Jaemin surely was not expecting that answer, for he sat back again and looked at the raven-haired boy with a curious smile. 

“In that case,” Jaemin speaks, “I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“You little,” Renjun started, “piece of shi-”

And Na laughs. 

  
  


The sunset on the salt flats were beautiful, but it was when night fell that they felt their breath taken away completely. Now, Jaemin and Renjun were back on the glassy surface, somewhere in the middle of the salt flats, in absolutely adoration of everything around them. 

The stars dotted the skies like confectioner sugar. It dusted along the entire night blanket, with a beautiful moon in the middle. In Jebaek, there was no light pollution to clog up the night sky, so every single speck of star felt visible.

And it reflected off of the surface of the salt flats perfectly, until for that interval of time, after sunset and before sunrise, it felt as if they were in space themselves. 

All around them was darkness, save for the light of the skies above them and reflected light of those same skies below them. It suddenly felt as if they were floating in space, able to step on the stars and moon if they wanted to. If Renjun wasn’t holding onto his soul so desperately, it might have disappeared at the beautiful sight. 

As children, they had never stayed to see what this place looked like at night, so this was a first time experience for the both of them. And Jaemin felt as if he couldn’t have had better company, as he stands there watching the scenery around him until finally, his eyes rest on Renjun, whose cheeks were filled and eyes were small from smiling so hard as he looked up at the sky in admiration. 

Sensing that someone was watching, Renjun looks over to Jaemin. 

“What?” The raven-hair boy asks curiously. 

Jaemin just shook his head, “You look happy.” 

Renjun smiled at that and then went back to observing his surroundings, “I am.”   
  


That night, Renjun stumbles into his room. Exhaustion had fueled his brain, especially from being out all day long from early morning to night time. His fellow citizens of Jebaek didn’t even have a chance to see him today, and it was almost refreshing, as much as he loved them.

On the bike ride home, Renjun had his arm tightly wrapped around Jaemin’s waist, but this time, he let his head rest against the man’s back. Renjun almost fell asleep on it several times, but kept himself awake so that he could keep _Jaemin_ awake, or else the biker would have fallen asleep too. 

They had spent the entire day together, so it felt almost strange when they parted ways for the night. The goodbye was timid. It was only the end of the fourth day, but it felt as if fourteen years of lost time were being made up at the speed of light, at the rate they were spending time with each other. 

Even in his tired state, Renjun went up to his cork board, took out a pen, and scribbled. 

~~Day 4. The salt flat.~~ Done.

* * *

  
  
  
  


Renjun does not make it easier on Jaemin in terms of what it takes to handle the smaller man. In fact, he seemed to make it harder. The more they spent time with each other, the more Renjun seemed to want to bicker just for fun, or nag about this or that, or drag Na Jaemin here and there until he was exhausted. Renjun did these even on days that were not his.

After they’d finish up a thesis topic, Renjun would pull Jaemin off to the side and they’d take a long walk here and there while having some conversation regarding some obscure topic that ended in either fits of laughter, an argument, or sometimes, deep talks. Renjun was an exhausting person to be constantly around, to say the least. And the raven haired boy was right when he said he doesn’t make it easy. 

What Renjun _does_ make it easy to do, though, is making Jaemin grow a little bit more fond of him every day. Every day, Na Jaemin grows a little more fond of Renjun’s odd character. 

Backtrack to the morning after they had spent the _entire_ day at the salt flats, and Jaemin was sleep deprived. When he had gotten home the previous night, he was faced with the same problems that plagued him before: quiet nights, crickets chirping, hot sheets, humid air. He had tossed and turned until the wee hours in the morning, and by the time early morning came around, he was too tired to do anything. Renjun didn’t come to visit that early morning, to drag him away on some crazy adventure that will never leave his mind. 

Na Jaemin found himself sleeping well into the afternoon, the time when there was at least a little bit of noise from villagers outside walking the streets or doing their daily errands. He’s practically passed out on the bed, no blankets, no sheets, nothing on him except for half of his clothes. The windows were opened wide and once in a while, a breeze would come and disturb the hairs of his eyelash as he slept. 

It was only when 4 P.M. arrived that suddenly, he felt as if his lung collapsed. 

Jaemin jolted awake suddenly at the feeling of someone jumping on him, only to open his eyes and realize that Huang Renjun had come in and threw his weight onto Jaemin’s sleeping body as if he had been a wrestler. Just as quickly as he did that, Renjun climbed back off and stood at the side of the bed. 

Jaemin groaned.

Renjun looked out the window and then back at Jaemin, “Get up. It’s literally four o’clock in the evening.”

Jaemin rolled over on his stomach and buried his head in his pillow. He complained, “Give me some mercy, I have barely been able to sleep.” 

“I know,” Renjun said with a sympathetic voice, “I came by earlier this afternoon and was about to wake you, but you looked like you needed your sleep.”

Jaemin lifted his head off the pillow for a moment, frowning, “So why’d you wake me now?” 

“I’m bored,” Renjun says. 

And Jaemin laughs. He shakes his head disapprovingly before tapping at the spot beside him on the bed. 

Renjun narrows his eyes, “What.”

“Lay down with me,” Jaemin says, eyes slightly faded from having just woken up. 

It seems as if Renjun suddenly got shy, for he said, “In Jebaek, we don’t just...lay with people in their beds unless…we wanted to…you know...”

Jaemin raised a brow. He knew what Renjun meant, and it made him grin knowingly. 

“What? You don’t want to?” Jaemin teased, knowing it was all fun and games. And then he gestured down at his own body, which was only half clothed with a pair of pants and no shirt covering his gorgeous torso. 

Renjun at the suggestion, which he understood was a joke, rolled his eyes and then jumped on the bed, and in one solid motion, used all the force in his body to push Jaemin off before the brown haired man was sent tumbling to the floor with a thud and an _ouch_ . And _then_ , Renjun laid back finally, laughing. 

Jaemin climbs himself back on the bed with a fake angry look but then laughs it off too, laying down next to his childhood friend. 

“In the _city_ ,” Jaemin begins explaining, “we don’t take those things that seriously. Friends can do this too.” 

Renjun nods, “Yeah, I think I got that part now.” 

And then silence. It was so eerily long and drawn out that Renjun furrowed his eyebrows. He then turns over to see that Jaemin had fallen asleep again and he laughs before shaking the other boy awake. Jaemin jolts awake again and then groans with a curse. 

“You need to get up,” Renjun remarks with a laugh. 

Jaemin agrees, sighing, “Soon.”

“What’s your topic today, jaemin?” He asks. 

He forgot. At the mention, Jaemin turns over and moves his body until he was looming over Renjun on the bed, reaching across to the nightstand where his notebook was. He looks down and was somewhat pleased to find a confused Renjun underneath him, and Jaemin laughed. 

“Renjun, relax. I’m not going to attack you,” Jaemin says as he pulled back with his notebook in hand. 

Renjun mutters under his breath, “Who knows with you city folk.”

Jaemin ignores it and decides to flip to his list, and takes a long look at Day 5. 

“Greetings,” He says, “How people greet each other.”

And so Renjun shows him. They lay there on the bed, and the raven haired boy turned over until he was on his side facing his childhood friend. Jaemin waits expectantly. 

“Nowadays, we just do the standard ‘ _hi, how are you’_ ” Renjun says, “But back then, we did have special greetings. Every village did.”

“Show me,” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun, still laying on his side, lifts one of his hands until it was parallel to Jaemin’s body, and the boy looked at him. Renjun gestured for Jaemin to bring his hand up to meet his own and he does. Jaemin’s palm met Renjun’s own as they laid there in bed. His fingertips were much taller than Renjun’s, whose hands felt tiny when held up against his own. 

Renjun then spoke, “We held our hands out like this.”

Jaemin looked at their hands, held against each other, and couldn’t help but notice how pretty Renjun’s fingers were, “Yeah?”

“And then, we’d exchange formal greetings,” He continued. 

“Hello,” Jaemin said in formal korean. 

Renjun laughs, the sound pretty like a melody, and he says it back, “Hello.” 

Renjun then continues, “Then we let go.”

They dropped their hands to their sides once more, touch still lingering in Renjun’s fingertips.

“And then we bow,” Renjun says, but he didn’t bow. They were laying down facing each other, after all. 

They both lay there for a moment. Jaemin forgot to write that down. He didn’t really need to. It was simple enough to remember. 

And then Na Jaemin decided to comment, “Your hands are small.” 

Renjun smiled and rolled his eyes, “I know. I get comments on it a lot.”

“Let me see,” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun brings his hand back up and Jaemin looks at them. His larger, rougher hands held the palm of Renjun’s softer ones. Delicate fingers that held the secrets of the world. Jaemin thought they were pretty, he admitted. Renjun looked at him, unsure why Jaemin was able to make the smallest gestures seem so intimate. Was it just something city people did with no thought?

Huang Renjun did not know why at the simple touch of Jaemin’s hands exploring his own, his neck wanted to heat up. 

“Are you done?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin chuckled deeply, “Yeah, I’m done.” He said before making a side comment nonchalantly, “They’re pretty.”

Renjun ignores that. Instead, he brings himself up off the bed and urges Jaemin to do the same, “Come on. Let’s people watch.” 

Jaemin follows Renjun out of bed, but instead of leaving the house, Renjun climbs out the window. He positions himself on the window sill and climbs out, until his foot was on the edge and Jaemin could only see the bottom half of his body from the inside. Jaemin calls out, to see what Renjun was doing, but the boy just beckons him to follow.

Then, Renjun disappears onto the roof of the house.

Jaemin follows after, until both of them were sitting far back, on the roof so that none of the villagers would blatantly notice them, but they could see everyone on the streets pretty well. Up here, they had the vantage point of most of Jebaek, and could see the rows of homes and shops, all designed traditionally.

The mountains that surrounded the place was gorgeous as the sun waned over it, casting the whole place in a pale orange afterglow. Flocks of birds occasionally flew above and eclipsed the sky. 

Up here, Renjun would point to villagers who passed on the streets, and they’d watch interactions from afar. The quaint way in which a child runs into another child, and then runs off hand in hand to play some game. The way one of the teenagers would stop and help his neighbor carry bags of grain from his house to the silo. The way random people would stop each other in the streets and have a good quality conversation for up to half an hour, unlike the small talk that Jaemin may be used to. It was the ways people greeted each other, playing out in real life for Jaemin to see. Jaemin made mental notes, since he hadn't brought his journal.

It was interesting to observe, and Renjun was proud to showcase all of it. They sat near each other, knees pressed together as they talked and observed the world, sort of like old times. Except now, they were twenty one year old men, and not children. Despite that, their conversation topics were mature when they wanted to be, and funny when they wanted it to be. It had variety. 

They sat up there for a while, but eventually, Renjun had to go. He said he had an appointment with himself. And Jaemin nodded, watching as the raven-haired boy climbed down from the roof and slipped back into the window. He watches as he follows Renjun’s retreating figure on the street. Na Jaemin stays on the roof for a while longer. Watching the village get dark.

And ultimately, he stayed long enough to see that far in the distance, at the South end of Jebaek, where the corn fields began, on a bench was the shapely outline of a figure that was starting to become familiar to him. Renjun.

~~Day 5. Greetings.~~ Done

  
  
  
  


Renjun takes him to catch fireflies the next day at night. During the actual day time, Jaemin had expected Renjun to have taken up all of his day. But instead, the boy didn’t have many plans until later that evening for them. So rather, he invited Jaemin to accompany him while he does chores around the village and tries to find inspiration for his next stone carving. 

“You still haven’t shown me any,” Jaemin comments. 

Renjust tsked, “Just be patient.”

They go around Jebaek throughout the day, running what seemed to be mundane tasks but each served some purpose. They visited Lee Jeno’s place, where they had tea together and caught up on the days. Jaemin did not find it awkward at all, but rather, enjoyed the company well. They helped deliver some shipments that had come in from another merchant to people who had ordered it. When there wasn’t too much to do, they’d sit in the square and eat a handful of macadamia nuts that Renjun had brought with him while talking. 

It was comfortable in a way. It made Jebaek feel a little less lonely. 

When night fell, Renjun disappeared and when he came back, he had two glass jars and two nets.

And he leads the two of them into the forest, until they could see, every couple moments or so, a flash of light would shine before dimming again. 

Fireflies. 

Like on cue, Jaemin found himself smiling as his brain gets a little jog. Little flashes of memory flooded his brain, small time intervals each. Six year old children. Bare feet, slick with mud. Dark skies above. The flashing of familiar lights. Nets swinging everywhere. Fireflies in a jar. He was remembering a little bit by the day. It just needs a little bit of coaxing.

In the present moment, he laughs and turns to Renjun. 

“We’re going to catch fireflies?” He asks.

Renjun nodded, “We sure are.”

Jaemin chuckles, “What’d the fireflies do to us?”

“They’re trying to copy me,” Renjun says, “I’m Renjun, who lights up the world. Fireflies are just trying to copy my style.”

“My god, you’re ridiculous,” Jaemin replies, amused. The boy in front of him was already running around the woods, swinging the net wildly until he caught something. So far, he was unsuccessful. Jaemin tried doing the same, but catching fireflies was a harder task than he anticipated it to be. 

“Shut up, you’ll miss my ridiculousness when you’re gone,” Renjun smiled, his eyes still concentration on his surroundings, waiting for a flash of light before running towards it with the net. 

“Why do you always feel the need to mention that I’m leaving?” Jaemin asks out of curiosity, also concentrating on finding the little bugs. 

“Because,” Renjun says as he swings his net. He then let out a whoop. He had caught one. Slowly, he slipped the net into the jar with the slotted lid and continued, “I have to remind myself, so that I don’t get too attached. We’re not seven anymore, Jaemin. If I get attached to you, then when you leave,” He was running out of breath from running around, “this time, it would actually leave a lasting impression.”

Jaemin thought about it, “Then why be friends in the first place?”

Renjun catches another one. Jaemin had only caught his first one mere moments ago. The Jebaek native then responds, “There’s no harm in being friends, Jaemin. We just can’t become best friends. Or better yet,”

Renjun turns and gives Jaemin a small wink and a wide smile, “You can’t fall in love with me.”

“Renjun, Renjun, Renjun,” Jaemin repeats while shaking his head dauntingly, returning his smile, “It goes both ways.” 

They continue catching fireflies. Until their jar had enough to flow as the bugs flew around. If they looked too closely at it, it was a little creepy. But held out in front of them, the jar of fireflies looked a bit beautiful. They would release it later, but for now, the two head back to the village and sat in the square, just in the middle of the cobblestone streets where they sat, not really caring if anyone walks by. There, they laid the little jar of blinking lights on the ground and sat back, just enjoying each other’s company. It was pretty. It was peaceful. And for the first time in a long time, Jaemin doesn’t mind peaceful. 

Renjun comes home later, and he looks at his list. 

~~Day 6. Catching fireflies.~~ Done. 

  
  
  
  


This goes on for the next week. Yet it didn’t feel like a week. It felt like mere seconds, as Jaemin and Renjun get closer and closer. With every day, every topic, every strange adventure, and every odd memory that came back, Renjun finds his promise not to get attached to be more impossible. It was impossible when Jaemin begins to lose track of time when he’s with Renjun. It was impossible, when early in the morning, Renjun finds himself almost waiting for Jaemin to show up where he’s working on the filtration system. Sometimes he comes. Sometimes he doesn’t. Those days, he tries not to feel disappointed. It felt like trying to fight from falling into a black hole. It felt as if there was no use in trying.

Na Jaemin seemed to not care for alone time either. In the mornings, he flips a coin whether to come bother Renjun while he works or not. If it lands on heads, he comes. And he spends his morning sitting near the bank where Renjun works, and distracts the smaller. If it lands on tails, he stays in. Those times, he tries not to feel disappointed. He was getting used to Renjun’s nagging. The way the raven haired boy’s brows would pull together when he was complaining about something. The way Renjun’s laughs feels like sunshine on tan skin. 

In the evenings, he eats dinner at the pavilion with the villagers, or whoever decides to come that day. Renjun never shows up, but Jaemin knows where he is. And oftentimes, he is tempted to come. He is tempted to join his friend on that raggedy bench facing the corn fields, but he doesn’t. Instead, he makes friends with Renjun’s friends: Jeno, Jisung, Chenle, Donghyuck and the like. Initially, Jaemin had presumed that village young adults were going to be mentally immature or unable to joke around; however, he had been sorely wrong. They were all very capable and funny in their own rights. 

“Has Renjun always been the way he is?” Jaemin asks one night. 

Park Jisung looks up from his food, “Like what?” 

“So…” Jaemin doesn’t know how he should describe it, “Sure of himself.”

Donghyuck snorts, “Oh yeah, always. His pride is what kills him. He thinks that doubting yourself is the worst thing you could do.” 

“Interesting,” Jaemin says, “Why?” 

They shrug, “Ask him.” They said. 

Jaemin doesn’t. He saves it for another day. 

But that day does not seem to ever come because Renjun, if nothing else, was a relentless person. Relentlessly taking up his time, and Jaemin could not say he minded. Even when they didn’t have a lengthy activity to do on a given particular day, Jaemin found himself trailing after his friend anyways. They didn’t have to be doing anything particularly important. Even sitting on the chairs, lounging in Jaemin’s living room, was fine.

Day 7. Day 8. Day 9. Day 10. Day 11, 12, 13, 14, Na Jaemin’s notebook was getting full, and Renjun’s list was getting crossed off. Natural resources, crops, hygiene: Jaemin asked and Renjun answered. Woods, lakes, ice cream creameries: Renjun revisited them and Jaemin remembered. 

They spent enough time together that when Jaemin goes home at night, before he goes to sleep--or at least attempts to--he still remember the curve of Renjun’s lashes, the vocal inflections he does when he’s whining, the feeling of Renjun’s small hands when he pulls him away on some adventure. Renjun fares no different. And it scares him, because they are becoming closer friends by the day. And as he had told Jaemin before: the closer friends they become, the more lasting impact it makes when he leaves.

Two weeks seem like little time, but when a person spends almost every waking moment with someone. That feels like an eternity. On any given day, they spent an average of 15 hours together. In a week, that is 105 hours. In two weeks, that is 210 hours. In the city, the average time that Jaemin hangs out with his friends when they go out is 3 hours, maybe 3 times a week. Maybe they'd go out for drinks, maybe they'd go to a barbecue place, but never to the extent of 15 hours, like he was doing with Renjun every day.

With that math, Jaemin had, in two weeks, spent the time equivalent of 70 hang-outs with his friends back in Seoul. 70 night outs. That’s more than some friendships spent time with each other for a year, especially in a big city where there were jobs to do, classes to take, futures to cultivate, Summers when people went home. With Renjun, it was an exponential increase from where they began to where they are now. 

Renjun finds himself having to adjust to several things. Jaemin's terminology was a little bit different from his own, for he used slang and english-inspired words that people in the city used. But slowly, Renjun gets used to the words. He also has to adjust to how Jaemin asks too much about statistics, as if Jebaek keeps track of every small number. At times like those, Renjun would have to knock some sense back into Jaemin, who groaned but agreed to tone it down. 

He also discovers quickly that when he's not working, Jaemin's personality is naturally playful and bordering on flirtatious. He blames it on him being a city slicker. And when Renjun doesn’t respond as well as Jaemin expects, Jaemin blames it on him being a villager. At least, in the beginning.

Renjun learns really quick how to handle and interpret Na Jaemin’s behavior. In his head, when Jaemin would say something absolutely absurd, Renjun has to tell himself mentally _No, Renjun. Jaemin does not want to sleep with you. He is just joking._ Or when Jaemin would throw him over his shoulder when they play at the river early mornings once in a while, he’d have to think to himself, _No, Renjun. Jaemin does not do this with any intentions. He is just like this._ He makes himself get used to it. He makes himself brush it off. 

  
  
  


Jaemin asks him about his topics. He asks about light sources. And Renjun shows him. He asks about imports. And Renjun shows him. He asks about anything. And Renjun shows him.

Jaemin asks Renjun about the elderly. Day 15. And Renjun shows him.

They spend the day with his grandmother, sitting in the kitchen of her traditional home, helping the woman knead dough into hand ripped noodles while she tells stories. The dough was sticky underneath their fingers, and lacked the skill that his grandmother had from years of repeated activity. 

Jaemin asks questions about how many elderly people in the village there were. What they did for a living. How they feel Jebaek has changed over time, if at all. What was the average age range for them. 

Questions that lack soul. That lacks depth. 

Jaemin twirls his pen around his fingers as he listens, then jots everything down quickly. And then goes back to twirling. 

Renjun stays quiet during these questions, knowing that this was the way Jaemin was when it came to his thesis. He focuses on the dough in front of him, as his grandmother struggles to come up with answers to some of Jaemin’s more difficult questions. 

The Seoul-raised man, while Renjun’s grandmother was explaining the best she could about healthcare for the elderly in Jebaek, turns over to look at his friend subtly. Renjun hadn’t said much in a hot minute. Instead, the usually talkative man was quiet, preferring rather to knead at the dough and occasionally glance at the window. His lips were formed in a straight line, and his eyes didn’t have the interested spark it usually did. 

Jaemin felt as if he knew why. What confused him was that usually, when Renjun had a problem with what Jaemin’s motive was here in Jebaek, he would speak up on it. Maybe tell him to stop being such a city slicker focused on numbers and statistics. Maybe smack him on the side of his head or roll his eyes until Jaemin would stop asking such passionless questions. But today, Renjun just stayed silent. 

Renjun’s grandmother had finished up her answer, to which Jaemin could not say he paid too much attention to, and he turned his head back. The elderly woman seemed to anticipate another question that she’d have to think hard and long on to even begin answering, and if Jaemin looked down at his notebook, he had several more. Dozens at least. He opened his lips to read one. And then he stopped. 

For some reason, Jaemin knew he was supposed to continue asking: what percentage of the elderly would you say lives independently of their children. And other lifeless questions. 

But his head thought of Renjun, and for some reason, he couldn’t let the question slip his tongue. 

Instead, Jaemin puts his notebook down and looks up at the woman. 

He then asks, “Tell me about your childhood. What made you happiest when looking back?” 

At this question, such a personal question that triggered an onslaught of beautiful memories in the woman’s mind, Renjun’s grandmother breaks out into a smile. The smile reaches the crinkle in her eyes and the atmosphere of the room suddenly was filled with excitement as the memories of youth came back to her. 

From next to him, Jaemin could feel Renjun shift in his seat. Jaemin did not look at him. 

Instead, he listens to what the grandmother had to say. She told stories of crappie fishing by the river and falling in several times, which was how she learned how to swim. How she met her husband, on a bike ride in the next village over. How he took her on moonlit picnics. Renjun had not heard these stories before, and was delighted to hear them. Jaemin looks over, and finds that the spark had returned to the boy’s eyes. 

Jaemin pretends to write this down. He asks, “How about your marriage? What was your husband like?”

This just prompted an even longer discussion from the grandmother, who after so long, reminisced over memories that she began to forgot existed. 

Later, when they leave, at the place they usually parted ways to go to their respective directions, Renjun reached a hand out to tug Jaemin in his direction. Jaemin decides to follow, side by side as Renjun make them walk. They walk for a little bit until Jaemin understood where they were going.

He understood by the way Renjun, as they passed a house with pretty flowers in its front yard and beautiful stone sculptures on the porch--a house Jaemin could only guess was Renjun’s--began counting under his breath as he walked with his hands in his pocket. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,_ and so on. It took Jaemin a moment to realize that Renjun was counting his steps. They went like that for a while until up ahead approached the familiar bench that stood in front of the corn fields. 

“...eventy-six. Three hundred seventy-seven. Three hundred seventy eight. Three hundred seventy nine. Three hundred eighty,” And then Renjun took a large step forward because he had come up a little short, “Three hundred eight-one.”

And then he sat down. Jaemin sat next to him. And it was silent for a little bit, but a comfortable one as they watch the breeze blow all of the corn stalks in one direction. 

Finally, Renjun spoke up, “My grandmother hasn’t laughed like that in a while.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jaemin asks, leaning back on the bench. 

“I think she forgot those memories existed until you asked her about them,” Renjun says. 

“Well I’m glad she remem-”

“Jaemin,” Renjun interrupted and then looked over at his friend. Jaemin looks at him. Renjun’s eyes are pretty, he decides. The way they seem to sparkle under the moonlight. The curve at the corners. 

Jaemin hummed in response. 

“I know those aren’t the questions you usually ask,” Renjun says, “The ones at the end. It had nothing to do with your thesis” 

Na Jaemin was a fool to think Renjun wouldn’t notice. And to think that Renjun wouldn’t ask about it. He didn’t know why he did that either, especially knowing he had a thesis to write. 

“Yeah? And?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun shakes his head and turns back to the corn field, “I just wondered why.” 

Jaemin shrugged, “Well, you don’t particularly hide the fact that you don’t like when I ask...what do you call them? Soulless questions.”

“But I didn’t say anything today,” Renjun remarked. 

“I could still tell,” Jaemin says, then points to his own eyes and then to his lips, “By your eyes. They show everything. And your lips. The way you purse them.”

Renjun frowned, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one analyzing you?”

Jaemin says, “You can try.” 

Renjun shakes his head, “Even then. You got a thesis to write, why are you more concerned with how I feel ab-”

“Because we’re friends now, right?” Jaemin asks, “And friends take each other’s feelings into consideration.” 

Renjun pursed his lips. And then didn’t say anything for a minute. But then he turned his body towards Jaemin. 

“And friends, even when they don’t like something, still want their friends to pass their thesis and do well in university,” Renjun says before gesturing to Jaemin’s notebook which laid to the side, “Open up your notebook.”

Jaemin looks over at him curiously but leans over to pick up the notebook anyways. 

Renjun then brings himself closer and reads the questions that Jaemin had scribbled out. They were soulless alright, and did not interest Renjun in the slightest. But he answered them anyways, or at least tried his best to, for Jaemin. He talks slowly, so that the boy had time to write everything down. The moonlight provided them with enough illumination to write, and Jaemin does so. 

~~Day 15. The Elderly.~~ Done.

  
  
  
  
  


“Do you like grottos?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin tilted his head, “Grottos?”

“Yeah,” He says, “You know, cave pools?”

By now, Jaemin knows the pattern. He says yes. 

“Do you know why?” 

“Let me guess,” Jaemin plays, “Because we have some obscure childhood memory there?” 

Renjun rolls his eyes and laughs, repeating himself, “Oh, so you remember? There’s no need to go then, right?”

Renjun jokingly turns to leave, but Jaemin grabs onto the boy’s wrist before he could and turns Renjun around gently, “Take me. Help me remember why I like what I like. Show me again.”

And Renjun does. They venture in the mountains again. They walk with Renjun leading the way again. And the moment something familiar triggers Jaemin, the brown haired city slicker becomes bombarded by old memories again. And he runs faster again, with Renjun trailing right behind him. And again and again and again, Jaemin becomes in awe of what he sees. And again and again and again, he grows to appreciate Renjun a little more. On paper, they were reliving old memories. And it was true. Each time, Jaemin remembered a little more. 

But even then, it felt like more than anything else, they were making new ones. New memories. Just at old locations. 

The grotto was a picturesque little thing. Nestled behind willows, the cave opened up to a bright blue pool the color of azul. A hole opened up in the cave so they could jump into the naturally forming body of water. In there, they swam for hours. When they got tired, they floated next to each other on the surface, staring up at the stalactites on the cave ceiling or the hole through it where they could see lush green trees and the blue sky as the background. In moments like these, Jaemin felt as if the world could end right then and everything would be okay. 

Later on, Jaemin piggybacks Renjun back towards Jebaek. The boy was light on his back, and he barely minded the matted wet clothes from the contact between them. Renjun wraps his arm around his friend’s broad shoulders and leans his head against the nap of his neck. Renjun keeps his mind busy. Always having thoughts to express, words to share, smiles to give. 

~~Day 16. Grotto.~~ Done.

  
  
  
  
  


“The legal system.” Jaemin stated his day 17 topic. 

Renjun gave Jaemin an _‘are you serious’_ look, “The _law_? That’s what interests you? That’s what you want to know about?”

Na Jaemin shrugged his shoulders, “It doesn’t interest me, but I still need to know about it.”

“Does _anything_ you’re studying interest you?” Renjun said while rolling his eyes. 

“You.” Jaemin says. He knew it would get a reaction out of Renjun, and he was not wrong. The raven haired boy gave him an incredulous look and then tried kicking Jaemin off of his own bed to no avail. Instead, Jaemin began tickling the bottom of his foot, making Renjun scream and thrash away. 

“You say shit like that on purpose so that you can see me get upset, don’t you,” Renjun accuses. 

They were lounging around in Jaemin’s room, a little after midday. 3 P.M., he believes. He checks his wristwatch. 3:39 P.M.. The sun was a little too bright today, and both of them needed to escape the blistering heat. It was only spring, but today in particular felt like summer. 

“There you go again,” Jaemin humored. He tongued his cheek, and the movement did not escape Renjun’s eye, “Psychoanalyzing me. And once again, you are right.” 

Renjun lays back with a huff and rolls his eyes, “Let me do the math. 33 days left until you’re gone? Can it get here faster?” 

“It’ll be here before you know it,” Jaemin laughs. 

For some reason, the thought made Renjun frown. He really was letting Jaemin become too close of a friend, wasn’t he. It’s only been a little over two weeks too. It didn’t help that Jaemin spent more time with him in the past two weeks combined than most friends do in a year. 

“So how about it? The legal system?” Jaemin asks. 

“Well,” Renjun begins to preface, “We don’t have too many laws, because stealing really isn’t a thing...since you can ask anyone for anything, and chances are, they’ll give it to you or let you borrow it. Murder does not happen, ever. So there’s not much…”

And then Renjun thought about it some more. 

“How do I make the law interesting to learn about…” Renjun mutters to himself as he stares up at the ceiling. 

Jaemin chuckles, that deep sound with a rich timbre, “You don’t have to, you know. You could sit here and lecture me like a teacher, and I’d be fine with that.”

Renjun gave him a look, “But what’s the fun in that?” 

Jaemin shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Renjun continued thinking, and Jaemin leaned back until he was also laying down. He turned his head to look at his friend. Black hair framing a small face. Cute, he thought. Pink lips with a natural cupid’s bow. Brown eyes the color of hazelnut. Jaemin thought of the pretty people back at home. The ones he’d see walking through university, maybe at a flashing glamorous club, or maybe the ones he keeps company in his own bed. From an objective platonic standpoint, Jaemin could say that Renjun gave all of them a run for their money. 

In the middle of thinking, Jaemin had an idea and he jolted up off the bed and then reached down to wrap a hand around Renjun’s delicate palm and pulled the surprised man off of his laying position until Renjun’s legs dangled off the bed and Jaemin was standing in front of him. 

“You want to make it interesting?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun gives him a suspicious look, “...yes?” 

“Tell me a law, right now,” Jaemin demands. 

Renjun purses his lips and wants to ask why, but he figures he’ll find out when he does what Jaemin asks. He thinks of one at the top of his head, “Um, Vandalizing is a small fine and a slap on the wrist. Plus, you’d have to repaint or repair whatever you did it to.” 

“Alright, let’s go,” Jaemin says before bending down to grab a hold of his friend’s small hands and drag him off the bed towards the exit of the room. 

Renjun follows, confused, “Wait, wait, what are we doing?” 

“Things we aren’t supposed to,” Jaemin answers cryptically, but Renjun understood perfectly. He grinned. 

They run out of the door and legs moved towards the square, or the center of the village. It didn’t take long at all to get there, and Jaemin looks around with his hands in his pocket. He whistled a tune, and acts overdramatic as if they were spies in a movie trying to hide. Renjun laughs and follows suit. Jaemin stops against the meeting hall, probably the largest building in the village where the council would come and make important decisions for Jebaek. He slapped the side of it and then quickly turned around, pulling out a small pocket knife that he carried everywhere he went

“You carry a knife around on you?” Renjun asks with a raised brow. 

Jaemin nods, flipping it open, “Yep. It’s a habit you make when you live in the city.” 

And then, on the side of the wall, Jaemin begins carving into it. Small letters, as he spells out an HR for Huang Renjun with the tip of the blade. 

Huang Renjun laughs while shielding him, “You’re so lame, Jaemin.”

“Hey,” Jaemin stops him, “Vandalizing is vandalizing. You can’t discriminate.” 

He finishes carving the small HR, small enough that unless someone was looking for it, they won’t find it. 

“Here,” Jaemin hands the blade to Renjun and they switch positions. Jaemin leaned up against the wall, shielding his friend. 

Renjun laughs as he carves a NJ for Na Jaemin into the wall. Sure, they were technically breaking a law, but Renjun knew for a fact that if the village elders found it, they would probably laugh it off and figured it was just them being dumb. 

Renjun finishes and hands the knife back to Jaemin, who sheaths it and puts it back in his pocket. They both stood back and looked at the handiwork.

Jaemin then exaggerates, “We’re so bad, aren’t we.”

“Yeah,” Renjun agrees, “Despicable law breakers. Horrible.”

“Terrible.” 

“We need to get locked up for life.” 

“Death penalty,” Jaemin counters before shaking his head, laughing, “Name another one. Another law.”

Renjun thought about it, lips pursed and his eyes looked towards the sky in thought, “Breaking and entering. But the only problem with that is that no one actually locks their doors, so would it _really_ be breaking in?”

“No,” Jaemin said with a mischievous grin, “But you know what would be?”

Renjun gave him a cautious look, “...what.”

“Follow me,” Jaemin says as he breaks off into a run. 

He headed towards Jebaek’s only high school. He only knew where it was because of his occasional morning walks. He’d find himself passing by the pale yellow school, two stories with a wrap around balcony where the stairs led up to. The school was built to wrap around a small courtyard made of cement and planted bonsai trees here and there. A gate stood at the entrance, open during school hours. But alas, today was a Saturday. Jaemin looked around when they approached the gate and saw that no one was there. 

As quickly as he could, he put a hand on the metal bars and hoisted himself up and over until he dropped on the opposite side, inside of the school grounds. Knowing that Renjun was a bit shorter, he stuck his hand out through the bars from the opposite side to provide the smaller man with a boost to put his foot on. And Renjun stepped on it and pulled himself up while muttering _I can’t believe we’re doing this_. 

Once both of them were on the other side, they strolled through the perimeter, walking under the pavilion of the first floor, as Renjun recites stories from his own high school days. Some of the stories were funny: like the food fight his friends had on their last day. Some of them were a little surprising: like how he snuck out one time to make out with someone on the roof. That definitely made Jaemin raise an eyebrow. 

Suddenly, from outside the gate, the two heard the sound of adult voices speaking. _Shit_ , Jaemin cursed under his breath and then tapped Renjun. 

“You still got that wire on you?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun fishes in his pocket until the wire from previous weeks landed itself in Jaemin’s hands, who immediately begins to pick a lock on a classroom door. The knob rattled for a moment as he worked but ultimately opened and the two boys ushered inside, closing the door and locking it behind them. 

The classroom was dark, with wooden desks and chairs lined in rows and a chalkboard up in front. Only small rays of light filtered in through the slightly ajar panes. They walk separately around the classroom, observing. The open notepads that some students left over the weekend filled with doodles and scribbles of math concepts. The ink pens and dull pencils in a small cup on the teacher’s desks for her students to use. 

Renjun ends up sitting on the edge of a desk, and Jaemin approaches, hands lingering on the bottom of the chalkboard as he moves along. 

He looks at his friend, and decides to tease him a little, “Renjun.”

The raven-haired boy looks up, “Yeah?” 

“Remember what I told you?” Jaemin asks nonchalantly, “About how I came to be so good at picking locks?” 

He got closer until both hands held the sides of the desk that Renjun sat on. The boy knew exactly what Jaemin was referring to. His mind thought back to the day they were at the bell tower, and he had asked Jaemin if he had any experience picking locks. 

_Jaemin had his neck craned up to look to the top and then he glanced over at Renjun, “You want to know?”_

_Renjun had shrugged, “I mean, I asked, didn’t I?”_

_Then Jaemin had given him a slight smirk before turning to start up the creaky wooden stairs, “I liked having sex in locked classrooms. Adds to the thrill”_

Renjun, recalling it, felt a heat burn in his chest and he looked back at Jaemin, who was obviously trying to get him riled up, looking down at him with a half smile, eyes never leaving his once. 

Renjun replies, “I remember.” 

Jaemin, not moving, then looks around the classroom as if acknowledging their environment before turning back to Renjun, “So how about it?” 

Alright, that’s it. Renjun, at the comment, leaned forward a bit until he was only a little ways from his friend, and then responded with a little sass in his voice, “How about _you_ go sit in detention for flirting with your teacher?”

Jaemin then laughs and backs away, ruffling Renjun’s hair in the process, “Teacher?”

Renjun nods, “I mean, _yeah_. I’ve been teaching you all about Jebaek, haven’t I?”

Jaemin pursed his lips in thought before shaking his head, “Fair enough.” 

“God,” Renjun says, rubbing his temple, “Help me. I don’t know if I can handle you much longer.”

Jaemin laughs, and the sound was nice and baritone to Renjun’s ears. 

Renjun then continues, “You better watch your back, Jaemin. Because there’s a law against fighting and physical assault, and don’t think I’m afraid to fight you.” He says with a laugh. 

Jaemin claps his hands once and breaks out into a disbelieving smile, “Oh really?” 

Before Renjun could reply, Jaemin ushers him, “Come on, then. We’ll break that law too. Follow.”

Renjun was slightly concerned but he ends up following Jaemin anyways. What? Was Jaemin going to beat him up or something?

They leave the school, and make their way past the village until they reached the foot of the mountains, where they usually venture into if they were on their way to the waterfall or anything of the sort. Right below the mountain, before the tree line began, was a stream that was somewhat wide, and was flowing with clear water that only went up to their knees and occasionally mid-thigh. The water flowed slowly here, and the pebbled floor was smooth and fine from an eternity of erosion. Usually, they’d just use the rope bridge that led from one end of the stream to where the mountain started, but today, instead, Jaemin kicked off his shoes and ventured into the stream until he was halfway in and the water came up to his knees. It was cold, but refreshing.

From the shore, he beckons Renjun to come join him. 

Hesitantly, Renjun takes off his shoes and slowly wades into the cold water, whose evening sunlight shimmered off the surface like brilliant diamonds, and he makes his way towards Jaemin who was watching him carefully. 

Once he reaches the man, Renjun was on the verge of asking ‘ _Okay, so what are you planni-”_ but before he could, Na Jaemin had reached down and grabbed the boy by his hips, bringing up over his shoulders and then dropping him in the water. 

Renjun landed with a splash and all of his clothes were wet. The shocking, crystalline water surrounded him and refreshed his body, but he was still a little upset. From above the surface, he could hear Jaemin laughing. 

Renjun broke the surface. The water was shallow enough that he could sit on the ground and still have his head above the surface. He gasped for breath and then cursed Jaemin out, who was still laughing. Still in a sitting position, Renjun brought his arms out to grab a hold of the base of Jaemin’s legs and pull backwards with as much force as he could until the man tripped hard and landed in the water himself. 

When Jaemin came up for air, he immediately threw himself on his old friend, but Renjun was prepared this time. He laughed as he tried to no avail to hold Jaemin back, who knew that he wasn’t going to hurt Renjun, just wrestle him playfully. The water lessened the impact of anything either way. They go at it like that for a while, with Renjun desperately trying to pin down Jaemin or trip him, and Jaemin repeatedly being able to pick Renjun up by the thigh or the waist and throw him in the water, gently enough so that he doesn’t hit the rock but just enough so that it riles up the smaller man. 

At times like these, Na Jaemin forgets. He forgets about the statistics. And the numbers. He forgets that this had nothing to do with his thesis. And that he was here in Jebaek for a reason. But he forgets only temporarily. 

After they finished wrestling in the stream, the two climbed onto the shore and laid back, chest heaving. They looked up at the darkening sky. 

“No corn field today?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun shakes his head no, “Not today. I’ve been doing this for fourteen years. I can take a break once in a while.” 

They lay there in silence for a little bit.

Jaemin then sits up and grabs at his own clothes, “I hate damp clothes. Renjun, tell me, is there a law against public indecency?” 

Renjun pulls himself up in a sitting position also and then thinks, “I mean, yes? We can’t just parade around without clothes at any place in the world.”

“In that case,” Jaemin said before reaching down at the hem of his shirt and peeling it off in one fluid motion. Renjun watched. And Jaemin then took off his shorts too until he was only in his undergarments and then stood up, “Do you want to break that rule too?” 

Renjun looks at him incredulously and then back at the village not too far away, “You’re kidding me.”

Jaemin shakes his head no, “Not in the slightest.” 

Renjun bit his lip and then considered it, before standing up and peeling his own clothes off. He talks while saying so, “My house is the closest to where we are now. We can just run there.” 

“We’ll make it a race,” Jaemin says, remembering the house with the pretty flowers in the front and stone sculptures. 

Renjun doesn’t even let Jaemin count down. As soon as he was only in his underwear, he gave himself a head start and began sprinting across the grass in the direction of Jebaek. Jaemin yelled after him, but the man still ran following behind Renjun who was laughing as he took a big lead. The sky was darkening, but the two ran across it, two adults in nothing but undergarments running across the plain until they reached the village. 

Renjun’s house was thankfully on one of the edges of Jebaek, contrary to being in the middle, so they did not need to run through many streets in their attire, but Renjun stomped up the porch and let himself in his unlocked door, with Jaemin following behind quickly. 

They change. Renjun into a large white cotton shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts. Jaemin into a pair of Renjun’s oversized pants that he can’t wear and a shirt that’s too big on Renjun but fits perfectly on him. 

Jaemin, once changed and has a chance to observe his surroundings, is immediately in awe of how Renjun’s home looks. There was a quaint living room with dark green suede couches and a beautiful coffee table in the middle. Along the entire wall are rows and rows of book shelves. Jaemin looks at them, and notices books that range from science to history to fictions. Renjun read everything, and Jaemin now knows why the boy was so well versed on the world, even if he’d never seen much of it.

In another relatively large room, Jaemin finds that it is Renjun’s workspace, lined with gorgeous stone sculptures that range in size. Big ones of the scene of a person, carrying pails of water from the river. Small ones, of the mountains that surround Jebaek. Each one was so intricately detailed and designed that it told a story of its own. Renjun had been right. Jaemin could see very well how people would be lined up to buy these. They were magnificent. 

“They’re beautiful,” Jaemin says, as Renjun watches from the door frame. He watches Jaemin go around the room, gently touching the stone carvings as if they were precious artifacts. He could see the curiosity and admiration swim in his friend’s eyes as he looked at them, and it made Renjun’s heart swell with pride. 

Jaemin goes on like that for a while, before becoming satisfied with what he sees. 

“Do you take requests? I’ll pay,” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun takes himself off the door frame, “What is it?”

“Carve me something, anything, before I leave,” Jaemin requests, “So that I have something physical to remember you by. Token of a good friendship rekindled, let’s say that. I’ll pay whatever you want.” 

Renjun laughs airily and then looks to the side, thinking, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“In the meantime,” Jaemin says and he rubs his nape with his hand, “You’re good with a knife right?” 

Renjun tilts his head to the side in confusion, “I mean, yes? I carve for a living, Jaemin.”

“Exactly,” Jaemin says and then pursed his lips before asking, “So is there any way you can help me...shave my face? With a straight blade? There’s no razors here in Jebaek…” 

Renjun begins laughing and he claps his hands, seeing how embarrassed it looked like Jaemin was becoming. Without answering, Renjun left the room and made light work upstairs. Jaemin waits around for a couple minutes and ventures into the backyard, and takes a seat on a swinging chair. He looked ahead. The backyard was facing a small dragon fruit farm, lined with rows of it. It was dusk and a pale purplish blue graced the sky. The wind was light today, barely kissing his skin. 

Not long after, Renjun finds Jaemin out on the back porch and Jaemin looks up. In the boy’s hands was a bowl of what looked to be warm water, small towel, a straight blade, and what looked like foamy soap. He set the tools on the swinging chair.

“Put your feet on the ground, don’t let the chair swing or you’ll spill the water.” Renjun says. 

Jaemin, still sitting in the same position, anchors his feet on the ground, stopping the swinging bench from moving. He looked up at Renjun, who bit the bottom of his lip and wondered how to do this. He had never shaven someone else before, but he figured it couldn’t have been too difficult right? 

“Can I…” Renjun asks and looks at Jaemin before gesturing towards his lap, the most convenient way to safely do this at a close distance without running the risk of cutting into Na Jaemin’s skin. 

Jaemin laughed with a _go ahead._

Renjun then slowly positioned himself on the side, sitting onto his friend’s lap with both legs swung over the left side of Jaemin. He had to twist his torso so that he faced the man, and a small heat crept up his neck. Jaemin's body seemed to encompass his own small one. It didn’t help that to help the chair not swing, Jaemin put both of his hands gently on Renjun’s hips and waist to stabilize the smaller and held it there. Renjun muttered a small thanks. 

Grabbing the foam, Renjun begins massaging it gently on either sides of Jaemin’s face until it was white. There wasn’t much to shave off, only small stubble that was barely even noticeable in the first place. Renjun laughs at the sight, and Jaemin smiles along with him.

He gets to work, massaging the cream everywhere and Jaemin looks at Renjun as he concentrates. 

“Can you stop looking at me?” Renjun asks as he reaches for the blade. 

Jaemin laughs, “Renjun, I literally have no choice. You are right in front of me.” 

Renjun pursed his lips in surrender as he began pulling a line down Jaemin’s face, as close to his skin as possible with the sharp edge, taking the cream with it. It was a slow process, and it felt even slower as Jaemin refuses to stop looking at his friend as he chisels the stubble off of his face. The entire time, Renjun was trying not to think about the fact that he was casually doing this while sitting on top of his friend’s lap, caressing his face gently so that he doesn’t make him bleed. The heat burned in his neck the entire time even when he tried to curse it away. He tries to focus on the task at hand, and after what seemed like eternity, he was finished. 

As a final detail, Renjun grabs the small towel and dips it into the warm water before wringing it out. He brings it up to Jaemin’s face and starts cleaning off any leftover foam, and then as soon as he finishes, Renjun hops off of his lap and steps back. 

The bowl of water starts shaking at the sudden movement, and Jaemin puts a hand out to stop it. 

He laughs gently, “A little too eager to get away, huh.” Jaemin asks as he walks over to pour the water on the side. 

Renjun doesn’t say anything. 

Jaemin looks at him then, “Thanks for the help.” 

“Yeah,” Renjun mutters, “It’s no problem.”

  
  
  


That night, when Jaemin parts his house after staying two hours or so to talk and lounge around in his room, admiring how quaint it was, Renjun laid back in bed. He turns his head over to his nightstand and pulls out a drawer. He had taken his list down from the cork board when Jaemin had come in, not wanting his old friend to see what plans he had, and hid it in his drawer. But now, he looks at it and gets up to replace it on his cork board once again before sitting on the edge of his bed. 

Renjun thinks of their day. Of their week. Or weeks, thus far. He thinks of how they’ve objectively gotten closer as friends. As friends, he thinks. The afternoons spent hiding out in Jaemin’s house to escape the glaring sun that threatened to melt them. The mornings where Jaemin would occasionally show up to bother him until he finished his work. The silly adventures chasing their childhood memories. Or the somewhat failed attempts to try and lecture Jaemin on whatever topic he had that day for his thesis, as they prefer to get off topic and be off task. As friends, they were becoming closer by the minute. 

But what comes along with Jaemin’s friendship, Renjun realizes, is also Jaemin’s _other_ qualities. Na Jaemin, who when he last left fourteen years ago, was a seven year old kid with freckles that dotted his cheeks from too much time in the sun, with a chubby face from baby fat that still clung to his cheeks, from bright eyes filled with the light of adolescence.

Na Jaemin, who now stood at a tall height, whose body rivaled that of a greek god, whose eyes had depth and lured in even the brightest of souls into it’s darkness, whose lips that turned into a smirk made anyone and everyone swoon. 

Jaemin, who wasn’t afraid to act a little dangerous. The way he would outright say lewd comments that would bring Renjun’s ancestors back to life to scold him. The way his fingers would linger on Renjun’s waist at times. The staring that was so normal to Jaemin, but so excruciating to Renjun. 

Renjun closed his eyes and tried not to think about it. _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it._ Renjun repeated in his head like a mantra. But he already figured one thing, and that was undeniable. It was undeniable to its very core. 

Na Jaemin was dangerous, and if Renjun did not be careful, he was going to drown.

  
  
  


Jaemin, on the other side of Jebaek, had similar thoughts plaguing his head. He had already marked off the topic for today. 

~~Day 17. The Law.~~ Done. 

But he can’t mark out the thought of Huang Renjun out of his head. His pretty laugh. His pretty self, as he sat so innocently on Jaemin’s lap earlier. The way Renjun never seemed to run out of ideas, and whose mind always brimmed with curiosity of some sort. He appreciated their friendship. He enjoyed the days they spent together and odd journeys that went on. 

He enjoyed their budding friendship a lot, but Jaemin was not stupid. He was not stupid, and he knew that he should stop making suggestive comments just to see the boy flush red, that he should stop lingering his hands a little too long when he should have pulled away moments ago, that he should not like it so much when Renjun laughs his sing-songy laugh. 

He was not stupid, and he knew that if he keeps playing this game with Huang Renjun, and if he wasn’t careful, then he might lose. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this chapter omg  
> i promise more things will happen in the next  
> chapter asdfsadf  
> anyways, tysm tysm tysm for all the love and comments.  
> you guys really don't have to, but i'm so grateful that you  
> guys go out of your way to :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28,300 words, in case you are busy !
> 
> hope everyone is staying safe <3

Renjun’s pretty fingers make light work flipping through the pages of the novel he was currently reading. His eyes were glued to the words, but his mind could not help but stray him away from focus. Instead of comprehending the story he had been holding in his hands for a good few hours now, Renjun’s mind kept telling him to _look up, look up, look up._

Look up where? Look up to where a couple meters away from him, Na Jaemin was shirtless and wet from head to toe. He cursed at himself under his breath. 

Earlier, rather than it being Renjun who shows up at Jaemin’s house dragging him to start their day, it was the brown haired man who showed up at Renjun’s door. Now that he knew where the smaller lived, he had the liberty to show up whenever he wanted to. 

The raven haired boy had been sitting in his room, legs tangled up in his blankets, a book steady in his hands that he had been reading all morning, when suddenly, the presence of Na Jaemin at his bedroom door made him jump up against the wall where his bed was touching, hands clutching his heart. 

Jaemin had laughed at the reaction, and Renjun was at a loss for words as he gathered the nerves he had spilled off the ground at the sudden scare. 

“Now you know how it feels when you randomly come into my house without knocking,” Jaemin had commented with a laugh as he made his way over and sat on a chair that faced Renjun’s bed. 

Renjun squinted, stance relaxing a bit more now, “What are you doing here?” 

Jaemin gave him a look of unfairness and incredulity, “So you’re allowed to come see me whenever you want, but I can’t come see you?” 

“No, it’s fine,” Renjun says, cautiously looking at his friend, “It’s just that I’m usually the one who comes to you.”

“Well, that’s because I didn’t know where you lived before,” Jaemin explains.

Renjun snorted, “You’re telling me that if you knew where I lived before, you would’ve gone out of your way to see me?” 

Jaemin shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, I would. I mean, I don’t know anyone else here that can cure my boredom.” 

Renjun rolls his eyes with a slight scoff before burying his attention back on the pages of his novel, “Is that all I’m good for?” 

“No, you’re also good for teasing,” Jaemin says with a small smirk that had no negative intentions behind it, “Come on, Jun. You know I was just teasing you. I enjoy spending time with you, I promise.”

Renjun only heard one word from what his friend had said. He repeats it looking up, “...Jun?” 

Jaemin seemed to have not too much thought about it, for the man shrugged, “Yeah, it just slipped out. Do you not like it? I think it’s cute.” 

Renjun stayed quiet for a little bit. His book was still open in his hands, but his eyes rested on Jaemin almost uncomfortably, as if he knew something the other didn’t. Jaemin somehow felt that way often when he was around the smaller: as if Renjun knew things he didn’t. The truth was that he probably did. 

“You used to call me that,” Renjun says, finally tearing his eyes away and looking back down at the pages, “when we were little. No one’s really called me that since.” 

“Ah, really?” Jaemin asks, “I don’t remember.” 

“Do you remember…” Renjun seemed hesitant to speak, “what I used to call you?”

Jaemin thought about it. He thought about it really hard, trying to dig through his old memories. Lately, he had been better at it, surprising Renjun with details that he didn’t even know he knew about the smaller until it slips out and Renjun ends up staring at him incredulously asking him how he knew. 

It was happening quite often these days. Just the other day, at Jeno’s house when Jeno had offered them both blackberries, before Renjun could even say anything, Jaemin had piped up and said that Renjun doesn’t like blackberries. When he had met Renjun’s shocked expression, asking him how he remembered that, Jaemin realised he didn’t really know either. Things like this were starting to become the norm. So now, he thinks long and hard, trying to see if he could figure it out himself. 

However, this time, he ultimately could not muster up the answer to Renjun’s question. 

Jaemin replies, “No, I don’t remember.”

And then suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Renjun asks, “Do you like rope swings?” 

Jaemin should be used to these random types of questions, usually knowing what comes afterwards, but he isn’t, not when it was so abrupt like this, “I don’t think I’ve ever been on one.”

“Are you sure?” Renjun asks expectantly. 

“No, I’m not,” Jaemin answers, understanding that Renjun has something to share.

Renjun looks at him, and then pulls himself off the bed, “I’ll help you remember.”

With one hand still on his book, he reached the other one out to grab Jaemin’s and once more whisks him away. 

They ended up at a small lake, following a series of tributaries found near one of the many mountains that surrounded Jebaek. Renjun hadn’t even bothered taking anything with him, just his body, his book, and Jaemin, as they made the trek, which wasn’t too long nor arduous. They followed the tributaries until they reached the end of it where it opened up into a lake, with several trees lining the perimeters. 

On one of them, a particular tree stood with strong, thick branches. On that branch was a sturdy looking rope swing, made of weaved twine and knotted thickly near the bottom so that there was a place to sit. The rope looked battered and beaten, but well functional. It swayed gently in the wind, and looked inviting. 

Jaemin walked towards it and ran a hand across the tree trunk, slapping it on the side before turning to Renjun. He hadn’t felt the rush of memories come in like he usually did when they visited some place in the past. To be honest, he hadn’t felt much recollection at all. 

His old friend looked at him expectantly, but Jaemin drew a blank, “I’m not getting anything.”

“Oh,” Renjun says before sitting down in front of another tree and leaning back against the trunk, opening his book once more, “Well, try getting on it. See how you fare.” 

“You’re not coming in with me?” Jaemin asks, gesturing to how Renjun made himself comfortable on the ground and eyes already in his book. 

Renjun shook his head, “I’ll head in later. I’m finishing up this book.” 

Jaemin seemed a bit disappointed but he didn’t argue. He figured that trying to convince Renjun to do something he didn’t want to do would be a waste of both their time. He turned back to the lake. It was small enough in size that he could see the other end from where he was standing. Regardless, it was still at least the size of four stadium sized football fields. The slight wind today made tiny little waves in the water. The rope swing was high enough so that there was a comfortable drop to the lake, whose waters were such a deep blue that you could barely see past the surface. 

He figured why not. Jaemin took off his shirt, skin tanning a little bit more every day and defining the outline of his muscles. And went for it. He pulled the rope back and positioned himself on the knot and then let himself go until he threw himself in the water. 

And that’s how they ended up where they were now, an hour later, and Jaemin had swung off the rope a dozen times. Partially to cool off in the blistering heat, although it was just the beginning of spring. And partially to see if he’d remember, whatever it was he was supposed to remember. No luck.

Renjun on the other hand, had been slowly reading through the pages. Emphasis on _slowly_ , for his brain was constantly wanting to run away from the lines that were in the book and instead stare at Jaemin as he swung off and into the lake. At those times, Renjun makes himself bite his tongue to stay focused. 

Ultimately, he closes his book in a dramatic fashion and sets it to the side, declaring, “Finally, done.” He said with a sigh. 

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows as he shook the water for his hair and headed over towards where Renjun was sitting, “What? No you’re not. You still have at least 20 pages to go.” 

Renjun clicked his tongue, “I don’t read endings.”

Jaemin laughs, and bends down to sit in front of his friend, “You don’t read what?” 

“Endings,” Renjun repeats. 

“You’re kidding me,” Jaemin expresses, “Endings are the best part.” 

Renjun shakes his head slowly, “Not to me. I hate it when things end. If it’s a sad ending, then I can’t handle that. If it’s a happy ending, then it never feels satisfying enough. Because I’m left with the thought of, what happens afterwards? Are they happy forever? Is that it? I just prefer to make up my own ending, and skip the actual one.”

Jaemin airily laughs at the ridiculousness of it, “You’re afraid of finality, that’s what it is.” 

“Maybe,” Renjun shrugged. 

“I think,” Jaemin says and brings a hand up to exaggerate his point, “that recognizing that there will be an end makes you appreciate the journey _to_ the end a lot more. It makes you not want to take a second for granted, since you know it won’t last.”

Renjun pursed his lips. Was there a double meaning behind that, he wondered. Was there something Jaemin was implying, so he takes a shot at it, “Something tells me there’s a double meaning behind what you just said.”

Jaemin looked up at the sky and shook his head, “You’re wrong. No double meaning here.”

“I think you’re lying,” Renjun calls him out. Jaemin raises an eyebrow at that, but Renjun continues, “But we’ll just take it as how you want.”

“Well,” Jaemin laughs while running his fingers through his own wet hair, “Anyways, I think one day you’ll find a novel worth reading the ending for.” 

“Then I’ll be waiting,” Renjun replies before asking Jaemin, “So, how do you like the lake?”

“It’s beautiful,” Jaemin replies, “But you know what would make it better?”

“What?”

“If you were in it with me,” Jaemin says before standing up, reaching a hand out to his friend, “Come on.” 

Renjun stares at the hand, and then looks up at Jaemin, who he still could not believe has the audacity to say the things that he does. Jaemin just gave him a smile, and Renjun found himself looking at that smile for a little too long. He then took off his shirt and then reached up to take Jaemin’s hand. 

They go over to the tree and Renjun grabs onto the rope and pulls it back, before situating himself on the knot. The sun’s heat was warming up his skin by the moment, and he suddenly really wanted to get in the water. Standing back as far as he could to gather the most momentum, Renjun runs forward and then swings, yelling in the air as he did so, before letting go at the peak of the trajectory and flying before landing in the water mere seconds later. 

He went in with a splash, and suddenly, blue filled his vision, as the dark water of the lake surrounded him. He was cool once again. When he rose to the surface, he looked up to where Jaemin was standing, smiling with a stupid grin as he listened to Renjun’s laughter. 

A few moments later, Jaemin swung off and joined him also. The water was not shallow enough to feel the ground, so they paddled on the surface. It was a deep lake, with waters so dark it was almost scary. Jaemin swam towards his friend, and they waded in place together. 

Renjun while swimming in place told him about the book he had been reading: a romance, about a guy who fell in love with someone who was dying. A Walk To Remember, Renjun says the title. He had picked it up from merchants that came around the village every week, selling things they barter from other villages or even the cities. Jaemin had watched the movie before, and could tell Renjun how that book ended. How the girl was implied to have died. But he didn’t. Renjun, who never read endings, had made up an ending in his head that she got better, and the couple were happy forever, and Jaemin was not about to ruin that. Instead, he wades in place and listens as Renjun speaks. 

He notices the sunlight shining almost directly onto them. It’s rays made the flecks of gold in Renjun’s brown eyes shine brilliantly, and it looked as if they shimmered. His wet black hair was matted to his forehead, but for some reason, his friend still managed to look incredibly _cute_. The trees that surrounded the lake stood still, but it’s leaves were blowing gently in the wind. Pretty colors of green and pink from the petals and leaves. He looked at all of it and felt his mind getting a bit doozy. All of his senses coming in tenfold. 

“Jun…” Jaemin said without any context as he stared up at the sky, and Renjun paused his sentence. He waited for whatever Jaemin was going to say. But Jaemin hadn’t planned to say anything. For some reason, the nickname just felt right on his tongue at the moment and he looked at the environment around him. Beautiful blue skies. They suddenly looked a tint more yellow, with more clouds, as if he had been transported back to an older time, a simpler one. The trees that surrounded the lake looked a little younger, shorter, as if they had only started to grow. His body seemed to shrink within itself, as if he were going back in time. 

Jaemin repeated the words out loud, it rolling softly off of his tongue like a whisper, “Jun...Jun, jun, jun.” And Renjun was a bit confused, but he didn’t say anything as he observes Jaemin, who looked at the skies and their surroundings as if he found them familiar. 

Suddenly, it felt like Jaemin was being pulled underwater, but he wasn’t. In the present, he was still wading. But in his head, it was all he saw. The feeling of playfully being pulled underneath the surface, cold water filling his lungs. His limbs were shorter, smaller, chubbier. When he reached the surface, he saw Renjun. But instead of the 21 year old man he had grown so used to seeing, he saw a small child, a smaller version of him. Black hair that hung over his eyes. A snaggletooth that stuck out when he smiled too much. A scratchy prepubescent voice as he teases Jaemin. 

Jaemin heard his own six-year old voice speaking, _Renjun, I’m going to get you back. I’m gonna get you back for that, Jun._

 _Jun_? The six year old Renjun asked giggling.

 _You don’t like it?_ Jaemin had pouted, _I think Jun is cute. Jun. Jun. Jun._

The small child beamed, wading his short little arms in the water as he toothily grinned at Jaemin, _Okay, then I’ll call you_ -

“Nana,” Jaemin said in the present, the voice from his past and the voice in his present meshing into one, his words struck in realization, “You called me Nana.” 

His mind traveled forward fourteen years, and he suddenly remembered where he was, who he was with. The sky was back to normal, the trees were back to its looming height, the person in front of him was not a small child anymore, but a well-flourished adult. 

His eyes turned back towards Renjun, who looked at him with the same bright eyes from his childhood. Those never changed. The man was still wading, in front of him, but Renjun gave him a soft smile and nodded his head, “Bingo.” 

Jaemin then shook his head with a smile as if he could not believe it, “You’d think I’d remember all of this, seeing how close we were when we were young.” 

“You’d think, right?” Renjun asks with a laugh. They start swimming back to swing again, “I can tell you one thing for sure though.”

“What might that be?”

And so Renjun continues, “This time, you’re not going to forget.” 

Jaemin chuckled and then pulled himself up to begin climbing back to the shore for another swing, “You just might be right.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


That night, Jaemin knew he shouldn’t have, but he showed up anyways. He shows up to the corn fields when night falls, where Renjun had already been sitting, knees held up to his chest as he stares out into the plains of yellow. The moon was not as bright today, for the crescent was coming. In two days, the new moon will arrive, leaving the sky blanketed in darkness. 

He did not know why he felt the need to show up today. He acted as if he hadn’t seen Renjun all day, swimming together in the lake, laying side by side in the grass after they got tired, speaking to each other about this and that. About things in the village, and about things in the city. Renjun, in the beginning, never used to ask about it. But as the days went by, the more Jaemin noticed Renjun being a lot more inquisitive about things, and not just so he could prove to Jaemin that the village was better. It seemed to be out of genuine curiosity. 

However, it was 9 P.M. according to his watch, and he found himself walking to the raggedy bench, subconsciously counting his steps. His never reached 381, and he chuckled to himself. 

At the sound, Renjun turned quickly and held a hand to his heart as he realizes it was just Jaemin. 

Renjun looks at him, and held his gaze. Even under the sliver of the crescent moon, Jaemin could see how Renjun’s eyes shone. It was quiet here. The crickets and cicadas sang their songs. 

The boy spoke up softly, as if scared to get caught by the wind, “I thought you were going to let me have my field.” 

Jaemin looked around him for a moment, hands in his pocket, and then back at Renjun, “Not tonight. Unless you mind.” 

Renjun doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks curiously at the other, before turning back around, “Just tonight.”

So Jaemin takes a seat next to Renjun, and leans back against the slightly splintered wood. 

They sit there in a bit of a silence for a while. It was a relaxing one, with no pressure from either party to speak. The whispering of the wind spoke loudly enough, either way. 

“Don’t you think the fact that dinosaurs evolved into chickens is such a downgrade?” Renjun asks suddenly, breaking the silence. It looked as if he had been thinking of this question for a while, and Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh.

He thought about it too and nodded in agreement, “It really is. It’s almost like nature ran out of budget, so they made chickens instead.”

“At least chicken tastes good,” Renjun remarked, “What do you think dinosaurs tasted like?” 

"Rubbery maybe," He thought about it. 

They go on like this for a while, back and forth in some topic that didn’t seem to make sense, but still felt worthy to talk about. Both found each other extremely easy to talk to. A little bit of humor. A little bit of wit. A bit of flirtatiousness. And a lot of comfortability. It was comfortable, to talk about anything and everything, for if Renjun and Jaemin were nothing else, then they were candid. 

At some point, Renjun moves his body and lays his head down on Jaemin’s lap. The brown-haired man was slightly surprised at the action, for Renjun always struck him as reserved, with his guard up a little too high when it came to opening up a friendship, but he didn’t complain. Instead, he ran his fingers gently through Renjun’s soft hair as they talked.

For all the talk of nostalgia and how close they were when they were little, the truth was that Jaemin knew more about Renjun now than they ever could have at the age of seven. They had more memories then, but none that they weren’t recreating and making more of by the day. The difference between them back then and them now is depth. When they were 7, Jaemin and Renjun alike did not have depth when they talked about how much they hated daily prayer. To seven year olds, words were just words. But now, when Renjun speaks about how much he loves the rain, Jaemin felt the depth.

Now, when Jaemin talks about how he loved writing but hasn't done it for leisure in a while, Renjun felt the depth. Each word helped to paint a picture of a story they missed out on over fourteen years. 

When they were 7, Renjun and Jaemin alike lacked depth when they ran off to some obscure location together. It was to swim and to play games, just as children do. But now, when Renjun takes Jaemin to some swimming hole where they spend the day lounging around in each other’s company, Jaemin notices the significance in his friend’s actions. It was nothing like before. He remembers the smile of his friend’s face. The scent of his hair. The feeling of his friend’s skin. 

Friend? Best friend? Jaemin wasn’t really sure anymore. 

At some point, Jaemin asks himself out loud, “Why did I come here?”

His question was due to genuine curiosity. He didn’t know why it had been 9 P.M. and instead of going home, his legs carried him here. He felt as if there was in fact a reason why he came, but he wasn’t sure what that reason was. Renjun, having the ability to see through people as if their life was written on paper in front of his eyes, might be able to tell him. 

Renjun smiled and looked down, as if finding the question humorous, “I think...Jaemin, you’re enjoying my company a lot more than you thought you would.” 

Jaemin paused and thought on it, thought on his new friend that felt so close so quickly, “I think you’re right.” 

That felt like only part of the reason, but Na Jaemin was not going to dive in further. He was afraid of what truth he'd find if he did, and the consequences of that truth. 

Renjun comes home that night and looks at the list pinned on his cork board. He stares at the number. 18. For some reason, as he crossed out this day, his mind almost didn’t want him to. As if he was still stuck back on the bench in front of the field, head in Jaemin’s lap, indulging in some conversation, soaking in the pale sliver of moonlight. 

~~Day 18. The Lake.~~ Done. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

Early morning. At this point it was habit. Jaemin found himself lying wide awake, in bed with no clothes on his body except for his undergarments. He wished it wasn’t this quiet. Occasionally, a creak in the flooring would sound, and he’d lift his head up to see if anything was coming. But nothing would. Only the sound of his own breathing and crickets. He hated crickets. 

He wished it wasn’t this quiet. So Jaemin gets up, slips on clothes, and walks himself somewhere he knew wouldn’t be quiet. To someone he knew was never quiet. 

This morning, Renjun looked more frantic than usual, working faster and harder when normally, the man didn’t mind taking his time. Jaemin had offered to help, but Renjun shook his head, saying he could do it himself.

“Why the rush?” Jaemin asked, sitting on the ground next to the well. 

“The Spring festival is coming up,” Renjun says, “There’s a lot I need to do.” 

“Spring festival?” Jaemin asks, interest piqued, considering that he also needed to do a topic on holidays. 

Renjun stumbles a bit while working from moving too fast, but he manages himself, “Yeah. Did you not see all of the flyers posted around Jebaek? Every year on the first new moon of April, we have a spring festival.”

“Really?” Jaemin asked, “What all happens?” 

“Fireworks, dancing, food, music, and uh,” Renjun mumbled the next part, “A show.”

“A show?” He inquires, “What kind of show.”

Renjun mumbled again, as if not really wanting to say, “You’ll see.”

Jaemin found that curious, but decided not to press the issue further, “Anyways, don’t you think you’re a bit overworked? Do we need to take a break toda-”

This time, Renjun replies quicker and with a stronger voice than he intended to, “No!”

Jaemin blinked and laughed, “And here I thought you hated my thesis.” 

Renjun bit his lip as his fingers work, “I do. I just don’t hate you. You’re one of the more interesting parts of my day.”

Jaemin smiled at the comment, only slightly, for he didn’t want to let on that he found it cute, "Well, I can say the same."

"I'd hope so," Renjun humored. 

The topic that day was old history, and this one excited Renjun in particular. He ended up taking Jaemin to several old sites throughout the day. An old shrine dedicated to the gods they used to worship. It was overgrown with shrubbery and kudzu, but it was a sight nevertheless. They had climbed in through an open entrance and explored the halls, admiring the carvings on the walls and the faded statues of idols on pillars. They visited the burial sites of their village elders too, dating back to a time so long ago that Renjun’s great grandparents hadn’t even been born. 

They had to cut their day a little short, for the raven haired boy had been busy. Jaemin could tell. The way he’d constantly mutter to himself about the things he needed to do today, tomorrow, and the day after. He could see the stress lines forming on the smaller’s temple. 

Renjun walks Jaemin back to his house, but before he left, Jaemin could tell that Renjun wanted to say something more. Renjun regretted how little time they spent together today, feeling as if he was wasting the short time he had with Jaemin. He bit his tongue, not leaving. And he knew Jaemin could tell. Could tell he had something else to say. 

Renjun then looks up at his friend and bit his cheek before finally asking, “Come to my house. Tonight?” 

Jaemin chuckles and looks towards his door before moving his gaze back to his friend, “Why?”

Renjun pursed his lips, “Keep me company.” 

Jaemin looks at his friend for a beat too long, trying to see what Renjun was playing at. When he realizes that Renjun was being genuine, he couldn’t help but hold back a grin, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

  
  


At 9 P.M., Jaemin shows up at Renjun’s door. And held his hand up to knock before remembering the whole ordeal where people in Jebaek don’t knock. So instead, he lets himself in. The house was dark, a little quiet besides the familiar sound of crickets outside. Jaemin looked around and then made light work upstairs and to the left until he reached the door frame of Renjun’s room. He leans against the side of it as he peers into the room. 

Renjun sat on his bed, legs bare as he adorns only a long shirt that reaches down to the middle of his thighs. If he was wearing shorts underneath, which Jaemin was sure he was, then no one could tell. The windows were open, yet not much light filtered in because the new moon was coming. Even then, Jaemin’s eyes adjusted and he could see that Renjun had been just playing with his own fingers. 

When he leaned on the doorframe, it made a sound that made Renjun’s head perk up and look towards his direction. He caught eyes with Jaemin, and Renjun felt as if his breath stopped. He had been busy all day, running errands around the village and delivering shipments of his carvings to the merchant who stopped by to collect them. 

Even while he was doing this and doing that in preparation for the festival, his mind constantly looked up in the direction of sun, following its trajectory as it sets, waiting for nightfall when he’d come home. When Jaemin would come. His own behavior kind of reminded himself of Jaemin, who he noticed constantly checked his wristwatch waiting for the seconds to pass. However, with Renjun, he was waiting for time to pass not so he could get away. But so he could see him again. See Jaemin again. 

He didn’t like himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. 

And now seeing Na Jaemin, standing at his bedroom door wearing a shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and hair messily done, it made his heart skip one beat. He palmed the sheets of his bed, hoping it would stop. 

“It’s late,” Renjun says, “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Jaemin ran his fingers through his hair, “Mrs. Rin barged in and made me fold lanterns for the festival, and it took a while. But I’m here now.” He offers with a smile.

Renjun laughed lightly and then repositioned himself until he was sitting with his legs hanging off his bed, hands clutching the sides on either side of him, “Well, are you just going to stand there?”

Jaemin takes himself off the door frame and slips his hands into his pockets, “Where do you prefer me to be?” 

Renjun hesitates, and its a bit too quiet for a moment but then he speaks, “Here.” 

Na Jaemin raised a brow but obliged. Renjun holds his breath as Jaemin walks over, unsure what to expect from his own bold response. But when Jaemin stands in front of him, with him sitting on his bed still, Renjun couldn’t find himself looking Jaemin in the eyes. He looks away.

Jaemin notices and brings his fingers over to tilt Renjun’s chin up to look at him, meeting eyes with Renjun’s pretty ones, “Is this close enough?” 

Renjun looks at his friend in the eye and couldn’t help himself but ask, “Closer.” 

Renjun then stands up, until they were barely a foot apart. Suddenly, the distance felt a little too close and venturing into territory that neither had acknowledged. The silence made it difficult to hide his quick breath, and Renjun tries not to let his eyes wander around Jaemin’s face too much. 

The brown-haired boy lets out a low laugh and then brings a finger up to brush a stray hair away from Renjun’s eyes. The slight touch burned on his skin, and Renjun tries not to swallow too hard. 

Jaemin asks in a low voice, as if any louder and the world would hear, “How close?” 

Renjun’s cheeks burned red hot, and he was glad that it was dark so no one could see. Without answering, Renjun puts a hand on Jaemin’s abdomen and switches their position until with a little push, he had Jaemin sitting on his bed with his back leaned up against the headboard. Jaemin was not sure what he was expecting, but he was pleasantly surprised when Renjun climbs in between him and rests his body up against Jaemin’s chest. The man, as if he had been doing this for years, then wraps his arms around Renjun’s body, pulling him in close. 

“Did we do this when we were younger?” Jaemin asks. The way Renjun made himself so comfortable was as if they had done this before. It would be the only explanation in his mind for why the smaller was being so outlandishly bold.

Renjun bit his lip. His nose is filled with the scent of Jaemin’s cologne.

“Yeah,” Renjun replied. He lied. 

He lied through his teeth, because they had been _seven_ . Of course, they didn’t do this with each other. Sure, they had slept side by side in the grass somewhere or on the floor of the living room on a hot afternoon, but never like this. _Never_ like this. Never where Renjun lays on top of Jaemin’s chest, and legs tangled up together. Never where Jaemin has one arm protectively around his waist. Never this intimately.

If Jaemin had caught on that Renjun was lying, then he didn’t let it show. 

“You’re not as reserved as you were when I first came here, Renjun,” Jaemin says. 

Renjun hums and plays with a loose thread on Jaemin’s shirt, “And _you’re_ not as pretentious as you were when you first came here, Jaemin.” Before he could give Jaemin too much credit, he buffers, “Still a little pretentious though, don’t get me wrong.” 

Jaemin laughs and looks down at the peculiar but oddly comforting sight of Renjun cuddled up next to him, “What happened to the whole thing about people in Jebaek not laying in bed together?”

“You’re not from Jebaek,” Renjun counters softly, trying not to feel the burn of Jaemin’s touch on his waist. 

Jaemin makes a sound in agreement, before saying, “But you are.” 

Renjun looks up, eyes doe-like and shining. Jaemin felt himself want to choke on his breath. Renjun replies, “I am.” And then he defends himself, “But I’m a quick adapter.”And then Renjun lays back down on his chest. 

Jaemin thought about it, before nodding, “You would’ve been great living in the city, then.”

To that, Renjun didn’t reply. Jaemin had forgotten, he realized. He had forgotten about Renjun’s whole disdain against the city, and wanted to pinch himself for suggesting the notion that Renjun would have flourished, or even better off, living in the city when it was so clear to Jaemin that Renjun preferred no place else than Jebaek. 

Jaemin cursed at himself in his head before clearing his throat, “Not that you’re not great here.” He clarified, “In Jebaek, I mean.” 

Renjun was quiet for a while, but Jaemin knew the man was awake by the way he tapped his fingers against the side of Jaemin’s chest. Finally, Renjun spoke up softly, “I’m only great here, right? In the city, there’d be so many beautiful people, interesting people, so many smart people that I’d just be another face in the crowd.” 

Jaemin thought about it before pulling Renjun in closer, for the boy had relaxed his positioning, “I think...that you don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

They ended up laying there for a while. Jaemin’s body was all around Renjun, and he’d be lying for the hundredth time tonight if he said it didn’t feel good to be so. The scent. The warmth. The small whispers of conversation into the night. The way Jaemin occasionally speaks into Renjun’s hair and he could feel the warm breath on his nape. 

He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but Jaemin just knew it was late and he needed to leave. His notebook was still at home, where he needed to finish writing everything he compiled throughout the day before it slips his mind and he’d have to waste time tomorrow retracing his day all over again. 

As he gently pushes himself up in a sitting position, Renjun gets the hint and pries himself off of the man’s strong chest. Jaemin almost missed the weight of the smaller on his chest. The warmth of his embrace. 

Renjun wasn’t sure what made him so bold today, but he found himself telling Jaemin anyways, “I don’t want you to leave tonight.” 

Jaemin had been getting himself off the bed but then found himself turning his head to look at his friend with amused eyes, “What’s gotten into you today?” 

Renjun chewed on the inside of his cheek, and then turned his head the other way, “Nothing. Never mind, just go.” He said with a brisk goodnight before laying back on his own bed, not looking at Jaemin. 

The man, who was standing there, not yet leaving the room, wasn’t sure how to move. He felt as if there were some unspoken words on Renjun’s parts. He felt the urge to abide by Renjun’s request. To stay. But he knew that he had something more important back at his house to do. But despite knowing that, Jaemin couldn’t find himself moving. 

“You’re thinking about something. I can tell. What is it?” Renjun says, back slightly against his headboard as he looks straight across his room to his desk. 

Jaemin chuckled. Of course Renjun could tell. He could tell anything. Nothing was getting past the smaller. Not even his thoughts, and Jaemin spoke.

“I’m thinking…” Jaemin’s voice then turned soft and almost gentle, “that you should get used to me leaving.” 

Right. Of course. Renjun understands, and if he was honest with himself, he agrees. He agrees wholeheartedly that he should start getting used to Jaemin leaving, but there was something about hearing it come out of Jaemin’s own mouth that felt like he was being pitied. Or some kicked puppy being left behind. Renjun suddenly felt his fist clench up a little bit, and he remembers his biggest rule for himself. _Don’t doubt yourself,_ Renjun thought to himself. _Don’t doubt yourself when you say Jaemin’s just a city slicker who won’t think of you again after this. Don’t doubt yourself when you say this is all temporary.You’ll only get hurt. And when that happens, that won’t be Jaemin’s fault. It will be your own._ He tells himself. He’ll only get hurt. He can enjoy their friendship, but he needed to keep the other at a distance. He needed to, for his own sake. 

Renjun pursed his lips and nods, “Right. Goodnight,” He says, trying not to be curt and letting his emotions show, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Even then, Jaemin stays for a second more, as if he wished he didn’t mean what he said. But he knew that if he stayed another second, then he’ll stay _another_ one. And then another one after that. And another one after that. Until sometime along the line, he ends up here with Renjun forever hoping for the sun to never rise. 

So he makes himself leave, footsteps light as he makes his way down the stairs. Yet with every step he takes, it felt as if he was getting further from his desired destination rather than closer. As he passes through the living room, Jaemin stops and looks at it. He then looks back up in the direction of the stairs, listening for Renjun. Nothing. 

So he goes into the living room and against the back wall, he begins searching. His fingers skimmed through the room, eyes searching in the dark until he finally found what he was looking for. 

Taking it out and slipping under his arm, Jaemin makes his way out the door, closing it behind him quietly. 

Later that night, after he finishes up his notes about day 19, after he marks it out:

 ~~Day 19. Old History~~ Done. 

After that, he reaches over his nightstand and grabs the item he took from Renjun’s house. And for the next few hours, knowing that he was not going to get much sleep anyways, he studies it. 

* * *

  
  
  


Renjun finds himself busy most of the next day, and Jaemin would be lying if he said that he found himself missing the other. He rationalizes it in his head. Numbers. He always uses numbers. 20 Days with Huang Renjun thus far. And out of those 20 days, so many of those hours had been spent together. So many words had been exchanged, so many stories, and so many memories: old _and_ new. 

Every day, he woke up either in the morning or in the late afternoon to the sound of Renjun’s voice either scolding him for sneaking up on him or shaking him awake to start their day. Every night, Renjun is the last person he talks to. 

So naturally, he found it to feel strange when he barely sees Renjun all day. He had not slept at all last night. And when morning came, he tried relentlessly to make himself sleep to no avail. By the time he figures it was useless to try anymore and makes himself get up, Renjun was already gone whisked away to do some task for the upcoming festival. 

Jaemin could feel the excitement for it building all around him. The talk of it around the village. The flyers hung up everywhere as if everyone didn’t already know it was happening. The children running around the streets talking excitedly about it. 

Jaemin would have helped, but as a guest in the village, none of the Jebaek residents wanted him to do much work even though he’d say he was more than able bodied. Even Renjun’s friends who had become his own friends were busy and did not have time to indulge his company.

Instead, Jaemin ends up sitting on the edge of a fountain in the village at around 4:00 P.M. The sound of trickling water behind him as his eyes glued to his own notebook that he used for his thesis. He was approaching halfway through his time here at Jebaek and the notebook was getting fuller and fuller. Twenty days ago, the sight would have been him happy and excited that he was almost halfway to coming home. But now, for some reason, it just left him with a strange taste in his mouth. 

He hadn’t noticed that a person stood in front of him until their shadow blocks the view of his notebook, and Jaemin looks up. 

A girl stood, looked to be around his age, looking at him with interested, bright eyes. In her arms, she held a basket full of pretty yellow and pink flowers. She adorned a floral dress that hung loosely right below her knees and a light blush painted her cheeks. Jaemin wasn’t sure if that was from makeup or from him looking at her for a little too long, trying to decipher her name. 

Jaemin thought back to their first day: population. When Renjun had introduced him to everyone. He went through the catalogue until he pinpointed it. _Ah_ , He remembers. The girl’s name was Kim Soo Min. He remembers Renjun telling him _She’s the village sweetheart. 20 years old. Nice for the most part, but a total princess._

“Kim Soo Min,” Jaemin says, still sitting on the fountain, notebook displayed upon in front of him. 

The girl’s eyes widened and she giggled slightly, “You know my name?” 

Jaemin smiles at her, but offers no response that answers her question, instead he asks, “Is there something that you need?” 

She shakes her head _no_ in a dramatic fashion, “No, I just don’t think we’ve formally met before. At least, just us two. You’re usually too…” She pauses and tries to find the right word, “...preoccupied.” 

Jaemin laughs and puts one elbow on his knee as he rests against it, “Sounds about right. Renjun really knows how to take up my time.”

She nods as if she didn’t particularly care much about that, and then diverts the topic, “Since you know my name, and I know yours, we can be friends now, right?”

Jaemin chuckles. It was a bit cute how simple the girl’s idea of friendship was, but she meant no harm so Jaemin figures he wasn’t risking much, “Why not.” 

“In that case,” She says and then reaches an arm down to pull Jaemin up off the fountain. The city man was a bit shocked but stands up, tucking his notebook into his bag. Kim Soo Min then loops her arm around his and nudges him forward, “Walk me to deliver these flowers. They’re in preparation for the festival.” 

Jaemin figures there was no harm in doing that. The girl stood at the height of his chin and body was petite. She seems to like the size difference because every time they pass something that has a reflection, she peers into it for a little too long. Jaemin notices this and smirks to himself. 

Kim Soo Min was not much of a talker, but she still tried her best to indulge Jaemin in conversation; however, they were mostly about niche things. About the city. About if most men there looked like Jaemin. Questions that Jaemin could not say he was particularly super curious about. She asks Jaemin if he was doing anything tonight. Jaemin thought of Renjun. And then replied that he was, even though nothing was for sure. 

“It’s not often that people like you come here,” Soo Min says as they approach a storage area that had been converted into a space where people were bustling around, making floral arrangements, “Don’t you think you’re wasting time with one person?”

Of course she meant Renjun, Jaemin thought. And the man furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the girl he was walking with, someone who he didn’t even know. Just by her words, Jaemin knew that she was hinting that he should spend more time with _her_ in particular. He wasn’t stupid. He got what she was only playing at with cryptic words. He laughs to himself at the girl’s obviousness. 

“First, that _one_ person is my guide to Jebaek for my thesis,” Jaemin clears his throat and explains, “Second, even if that wasn’t the situation,” Jaemin thought about it. He decides to tell the truth, “I don’t think it’s a waste of time at all.” 

She bit her lip and looked down in embarrassment, “If you say so.” 

“Do you not like Renjun?” Jaemin asks her suddenly as they walk up the steps and into the building. He finds it curious. He thought everyone in Jebaek was close to one another, but realizes that of course there will be minor conflicts between people here and there. 

“I like Renjun…” She mumbled, “I just don’t like how...he gets all the atten-”

They get interrupted by the person they had been talking about. Jaemin hadn’t even noticed when he heard Huang Renjun and his unmistakable voice call out Kim Min Soo’s name from a couple tables over. He looked up and caught sight of Renjun, who had gloves on both hands and was helping with the floral arrangements. 

He then made eye contact with the other as Renjun began making his way over, and Renjun looked a bit confused as his eyes dart back and forth between him and Kim Min Soo, who had a tight grip on his arm as she smiled at Renjun handing over the basket of flowers. If he was uncomfortable, he didn’t say anything about it. Only continuing to eye Jaemin warily.

Renjun didn’t take her basket of flowers. Instead, he slides off his gloves and hands them to Soo Min with a pat on the arm, “Oh, I’m not taking those. Bring them over there,” He pointed to the table he was previously working at, “and you can start your shift. Mine just ended.”

Kim Soo Min opened her mouth and then closed them. She flushed red, as if seeming to have forgotten that she had responsibilities to do as well. She also had a look of disappointment on his face, but then gripped Jaemin’s arm tighter, pulling the man closer to her, “Okay but can I least bring Jaeminnie with me?” 

Renjun raised an eyebrow at the awkward nickname and gave a hint of an amused grin before looking over at his friend. Jaemin tongued his cheek and looked down at the girl next to him in incredulity. It seems as if she was purposely acting like this, to someone she’s barely even met. 

Renjun shrugged with a frown, “Do what you will.” 

“I will,” She said with a sweet smile and then pulled forward.

But Jaemin stood rooted at his spot and turned his body sideways where Renjun was beginning to make his exit and he placed a firm hand on Renjun’s forearm. The raven haired boy at the sudden contact turns to look at Jaemin, eyes curious. 

Jaemin then asks Renjun, with Kim Soo Min still clutching his arm, “Renjun, do you have somewhere to be right now?”

Renjun thinks about it, and says, “Not as far as I know."

“Perfect,” Jaemin said before prying his left arm out of Kim Soo Min’s clutch and turned back to her while pushing Renjun out of the building, guiding him by his back ushering them both out, “It was nice talking to you Soo Min. I’m going to go, uh…how did say it” He looks over at Renjun who just seemed confused with his pretty eyes. Jaemin almost stops at how pretty they were, but he continues with a sly grin in Kim Soo Min’s direction, “...waste some time, as you put it.”

The girl’s cheeks flush red and she clearly looked embarrassed. She bows and gives him a half smile before awkwardly walking herself over to the table she was supposed to be working at. Jaemin feels bad for her in a sense, for he _did_ make a jab at her comment from earlier even though it seemed as if the girl just truly was naive about this. It was like she, being sheltered in a place like Jebaek all her life, didn’t know any better about what to do when someone like Jaemin suddenly shows up, and went about it the wrong way. Jaemin couldn’t really blame her for that. 

Renjun, in front of him, still with one of Jaemin’s arm gently on his back, pulls his brows together and playfully shoved his friend, “Waste some time?” 

Jaemin laughed at Renjun’s angry expression and then explained, “She thinks that me spending all my time with you is a waste of time.” 

Renjun rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as they began walking side by side down the cobblestone streets, “Of course she did. I like her and all, but she’s kind of like that annoying cousin at the family reunions that wants all the attention on her.”

Jaemin chuckles, “I can see that.”

And then, the raven haired boy bit his lip and asked nonchalantly as if he wasn’t curious, “So...what did you say to her? In response.”

Jaemin looked ahead of them as they walked. It seemed like they were going towards the end of Jebaek, in the northeast side, “If I believed what she said, don’t you think I’d be somewhere else but here walking with you?” 

Renjun gave a small shrug, “I guess.” 

He tries to hide a small smile as he says this, but Jaemin notices. Wanting to poke a little fun at his friend, Jaemin nudges Renjun’s side as they walk and bends to the side until he’s looking up at Renjun’s tilted down face as he tries to hide his smile. Jaemin offers up a big grin himself while asking, “What? What are you smiling at, huh?” 

Renjun shakes his head and pushes Jaemin away, “Nothing,” He whines.

But Jaemin kept on pestering him, bringing Renjun’s head under his arm, “What is it? Did I make you shy?”

“No,” Renjun exclaims and then wriggles out of Jaemin’s headlock and gives the boy a dirty stare.

Jaemin just laughs, and Renjun observes him for a moment, before mentioning, “You got circles under your eyes.”

“If you haven’t figured, I usually do,” Jaemin chided, “Did you forget I barely sleep?”

Renjun shakes his head, “I know, but they look worse today.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jaemin sarcastically laughed. 

Renjun brings a finger up to gently poke at the circles and Jaemin finds his touch cute. Renjun inquires with a bit of concern, “How much sleep did you get last night?”

Jaemin chuckles, “Assuming I had any.”

Renjun’s eyes widened and his lips parted, “Jaemin, you know that’s not good, right?”

“I know,” Jaemin acknowledged, “I was busy.”

Renjun snorts, “Doing what?”

“You’ll see,” He replies, keeping it ominous.

Renjun sighs dramatically, “If I keep asking, I assume you won’t want to tell me even more, right?” He figures this.

“Renjun the all-knowing strikes again,” Jaemin comments with a grin. 

Renjun groans. 

  
  


They ended up just a short walk outside the edge of the village. They hadn’t gone here before in particular, since it was on the northeastern side of Jebaek, but it was as beautiful as the rest. They were walking towards a small empty plain where in the middle sat a large oak tree, with thick gnarly branches that spanned out on every side for meters. Everytime a gush of wind blew, they could hear the leaves rattling. 

Jaemin remembers it. Like always, it comes in a flash. _Do you like climbing oak trees_ , Renjun had asked him just minutes earlier back at the village. When Jaemin had replied that he wasn’t sure, Renjun says what he always did: _I’ll help you remember._ He now remembers short child limbs having to jump up several times to even reach the first branch. And then the two kids helping each other as they climb up and up, careful not to fall. 

Now, however, neither of them have to jump. The first limb was easily reachable, so it was easy to hoist themselves up and begin the climb. Jaemin goes first, being the taller one. And with every branch he hoists himself higher on, Renjun follows. If the smaller found it a bit more difficult to bring himself up, then Jaemin reaches down to help him. They continue climbing until finally, they reach a high height. Far out on the branch, they sit with their legs swinging off the side. 

From their vantage point, they can once again see the entirety of Jebaek and the mountains that surrounded it. The lush green. The beautiful skies. The hazy orange glow of the early evening sun. The singing of birds on branches. The gorgeous sound of Renjun’s voice as he talks about his day. 

Renjun tries to remember everything about moments like these. Simple ones, but moments that he knows he will look back on with bittersweet nostalgia. Revisiting and recreating their childhood spots was one thing. But the new memories they would make at each was what Renjun really liked. The conversation topics they would delve into. The feeling of Jaemin’s shoulder as he leans his head onto it. The deep vibrato of the man’s laugh. The sight of the village below them. It makes him wish Jaemin never came back. Because now, he wasn’t sure he wanted Jaemin to leave. He remembers the first day they reunited, how Renjun predicts that Jaemin, at the end of their time together, won’t want to leave. Looking back on that moment now, Renjun finds it ironic. It was him who didn’t want Jaemin to leave. 

And then he thought back to the previous night. While currently, Jaemin is talking about how strange it was that children of identical twins are genetically siblings, not cousins, Renjun listens partially and thinks partially. The words still stuck to his brain: _You should get used to me leaving._

Renjun then lifts his head off of Jaemin’s shoulder and lets the man finish whatever it was he was saying before letting out a breath. He turns to look at Jaemin, and the boy in question lets him, reciprocating with a curious expression. Renjun finds himself thinking it was unfair that Na Jaemin looked how he did. Handsome, deep set eyes that looked a little too closely into him, as if they could read Renjun’s heart rate. Lips that came to a natural curve at the end, usually parted slightly. Cheekbones that seemed to be carved out of the mountains that made up Jebaek themselves. 

It was unfair how he acted as he does, as well. Words that weave together to form perfect sentences always. A mind that, although a little stuck up, was brimming with curiosity, becoming unlocked a little bit more by the day as they spend time with one another. Company that makes Renjun feels as if for the first time in a long time, he was a child again with no worries in the world. It’s been fourteen years, and for the first time in a long time, Renjun feels as if he is allowed to enjoy his youth again. 

It was unfair, because he was on a one way track to doom. 

_You should get used to me leaving_. The words repeat in his head once more.

That hurt. 

He decides that today, he’ll be the one leaving. An evening alone in his corn fields sounds very appealing right now, in moments like these when he needs time to himself to think. 

Renjun inches his way towards the trunk, intending to climb back down. He calls out to Jaemin who still sat where he was, “I think I’m going to head back now.” 

He looks back to see Jaemin’s eyes trailing him as he lowers himself down onto another branch. Jaemin hadn’t moved. 

He hears the man ask, “You asked me to stay last night, and today, I’m staying and you’re leaving? Have you figured me out already? Are you getting bored of me?” Jaemin asks with a laugh. 

Renjun bit his cheek and didn’t know how to tell Jaemin that it was the exact opposite. That the more time he spent with Jaemin, the less he could figure the man out. He wasn’t what Renjun had thought in the beginning. He was that and _more_ . And Renjun was in the process of figuring out what that _more_ was. 

With an ending note, Renjun offers some words of caution, “No. I’m just beating you to it.” 

“To what?”

“Leaving.”

That night, as he sits on the raggedy bench overlooking the fields, he suddenly wishes he was inside of it once more. Where he could hide from his growing feelings. The growing feelings in his chest when he sees Jaemin. The growing amount of laughs he let out when Jaemin makes some stupid joke. The growing want, the growing _need_ , to be around the man, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. 

He has a small handcrafted glass cup in his hand, and he swirls the rice wine around until it makes a small tornado. He stares at it, and curses at it in his mind to hurry up and work. Renjun was never a heavy drinker, but occasionally, he indulges himself. The ceramic bottle of rice wine sits at his feet, and when he finishes each glass, he pours a little more. Not enough to get him slurring or unable to function, but just enough that his mind doesn’t think as hard as it usually does. 

When he gets to bed later, 381 steps back home, he palms the pen in his hand and runs his finger down the list as he tries to focus on the words. When he gets to it, he uncaps the pen and runs a messy line through the day. 

~~Day 20. The Tree.~~ Done. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


“What th-” Renjun whispers to himself at 5:00 A.M. as he stands in front of the hole.

He stares at it, blinking rapidly, sure that he was making things up. 

The hole was otherwise known as the water filtration system that he does every morning. _Every_ morning. Every morning, before the sun rises, he comes to work on it. He comes ready to refill the empty well with spring water. Ready to clarify it through the multiple filters. And then grudgingly transport the clean water in a partial bamboo aqueduct to the city center. It’s something that _he_ does every morning. Him. Renjun. _His_ task. 

So why was it that, this morning, it was already finished?

He looked at it. Everything was perfect. 

He had woken up a little late today, and he blames it on the rice wine he drank the previous night. Renjun had panicked a bit, knowing that he had a lot to do today and he could not risk running behind. At 8 A.M. he was going to the tailor to help with costuming for the festival, and he did not want to have to run everywhere and make it only in the nick of time. _Shit_ , he cursed to himself and threw on new clothes before running to the village edge where he normally comes to work. And lo and behold, there was no work to be done. 

Renjun takes slow steps forward and observes it. Everything, perfect. Everything, was done right. From the microdetails of how to filter the water through three layers to the larger tasks like begrudgingly transporting the water back and forth for at least an hour. 

It was 5:00 A.M. Which meant whoever had done this must have woken up even earlier that morning to do this. Whoever had done this must have enough energy early in the morning to perform such a task like this. Renjun knows. He knows that there is only one person in this village who has trouble sleeping around this time. Only one person who could have done this. 

Before he knew it, Renjun found his legs running towards a place he was beginning to feel familiar towards. It was a quiet morning, as it was every morning, but even quieter today as the sound of his running and labored breathing contrasts heavily. 

He doesn’t knock when he comes into Na Jaemin’s house, and just proceeds to make quick steps up the stairs. 

When he comes in, the man himself was laying back on his bed. Wearing only a pair of sweatpants with blankets and sheets kicked to the base of the bed. When Renjun enters, Jaemin slowly pushes himself up to a sitting position on the bed and looks at his friend with the pretty black hair and baby pink lips. 

Jaemin thinks that Renjun, even this early in the morning when the light is low and his room is dark, looks beautiful. Jaemin knows why he’s here. He knew that Renjun was smart, smarter than Jaemin originally gave him credit for. He knew that Renjun could connect the dots. 

It didn’t help that on his nightstand, which Renjun’s eyes looked towards, was what Jaemin had taken from his house two nights ago. Renjun thinks it’s familiar. He walks the few steps over to pick it up and flip through the pages.

Jaemin stands up from the bed abruptly as if he didn’t want Renjun to see it, but it was too late for Renjun had already recognized what it was. It was the book he had used himself when he began constructing the water filtration system. He hadn’t looked at this in so long, since the process was engrained in his head now from doing it every day. He hadn’t even notice it was gone from his library. 

Renjun sets it down while breaking the silence, “Is this the reason for your dark circles yesterday?” 

“Yeah,” Jaemin lets out a grumble of a laugh, voice low and full of roughness from it being so early, “Spent all night reading that.” 

“Why?” Renjun asks, eyes confused. 

Jaemin runs his hands through his face to make himself more awake, “So I can do your job for yo-”

“I got that, but why?” Renjun questions again. 

Jaemin shrugs, the muscles in his shoulders shifting, “It’s a little unfair that you’re the only one doing this for the whole village every day, don’t you think? Besides, you’ve been busy with all of the festival preparations.”

Renjun stays quiet before speaking, “So you go and read a whole book so that you can help me out a little? And wake up at, what, 3 in the morning to do this for me?” 

Jaemin runs a lazy hand through his brown hair and lifts his head slightly, “Yeah. So what?” 

Renjun hates how emotional he wanted to let himself be. All of his life, the moment he became old enough to do tasks, he had been the go-to-person in Jebaek. Being one of the more intelligent ones and socially active in the community, Renjun had always been expected to do everything. 

If Mr. Hua down the street needed to find where his dog ran off to, then he’d go to Renjun, who’d run around Jebaek and even beyond clapping his hands while calling out the dog’s name. If Mrs. Choi was going to leave the village for a day, she’d go to Renjun to make sure her children got to school and back home. 

If one of his friends had some personal trouble and needed someone to rant to, they’d go to Renjun, who would listen intently. It was to the point where when Renjun himself needed something, he didn’t let himself ask others, for everyone was used to him being the strong one. They were used to him being the one who was able to do everything and keep composed, that Renjun just couldn’t let them see him be weak or need help. They needed him to be strong. 

Maybe this was the reason that Renjun felt such pride for Jebaek. It was him who tended to all of its tasks and him who took care of Jebaek and everything and everyone in it.

So now, for the first time since he was little back when no one expected anything of him, Renjun was taken care of. For the first time, someone saw that he was doing more than his fair share, and went out of their way to lift some weight off of his shoulders. Anyone else would see that Renjun was able to juggle everything, and think _oh he’s able to do it_ . Jaemin sees that Renjun was able to juggle everything, and instead, he thought that even though Renjun _is_ able to do it, it doesn’t mean he should. 

After years and years of being the one who cares for others, the one who protects the image of Jebaek, the one who everyone assumes can take care of himself, it felt so personal to Renjun that he was the one who was being cared for now. 

Renjun bites his cheek and looks down, “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” 

Jaemin, who is used to Renjun having an _i can do anything_ persona which becomes guarded when it comes to his deeper emotions, was a bit surprised to hear the raw emotions in his friend’s voice. His friend’s pretty voice. Jaemin takes a slow step towards Renjun and before he knew what he was doing, he raised a hand to run a thumb across his friend’s soft cheeks. He uses his fingers to then tilt Renjun’s face up to look at him. Jaemin’s touch burned on his face. 

“Listen to me Renjun,” Jaemin requests in a gentle but commanding voice. Renjun listens.

Then Jaemin tells him something he hears too little for all that he does, “You deserve it. You deserve it, you hear me?”

Renjun turns his head away but Jaemin keeps a steady hand. Renjun whispers in refutation, “Yes, but I can do i-”

“I know you _can_ do it,” Jaemin affirms, “Of course you can do it. But how long are you going to push off taking care of yourself? How long are you going to put everyone else’s needs before your own?”

Renjun doesn’t say anything, but just lets the words sink in. He doesn’t let himself look at Jaemin in this moment of weakness on his part, so instead, Renjun reaches out and wraps his arm around Jaemin’s bare torso. He lays his head near Jaemin’s shoulder and lets himself melt in his friend’s body. Jaemin doesn’t take long to scoop Renjun up in his own arms and allow the smaller to let his guard down for one of the first times in a long time. 

“Thank you,” Renjun says softly into his shoulder and Jaemin just holds him in response. 

They stay like that for a moment, and it was not awkward in the slightest. It was raw. It was filled with unspoken thanks on Renjun’s part. Something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to express in words. The moment felt long, but comfortable. He could feel his own heart beating fast.

Renjun bites his lip and then speaks, “I got three hours until I have to go do something.” 

“Yeah?” Jaemin asks into Renjun’s hair, letting the scent of jasmine fill his senses, “Are you going to get some rest with all this new free time?”

Renjun pulls away, but still not letting go of his friend’s muscular body, “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Good,” Jaemin replies, and then brings his forehead to rest on his friend’s. They were a little too close, but Renjun couldn’t find himself pulling away. Jaemin then asks, “You want to do that here?”

Renjun looks at him, curiously, “Here?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin replies breathily, looking down. 

Renjun took a bit of time to think about it, but not too much. He knew what he was going to say before he ever said it, “Okay.”

Jaemin was hoping for that answer, for ever since Renjun laid with him that one night, he wanted to do it again since and he doesn’t even know why. He doesn’t take a beat to wrap his arms tight around Renjun’s waist and lowers them both down until Renjun’s back gently hits the bed and Jaemin follows suit, reaching out one hand to pull up the sheets that he had kicked down to the bottom earlier in the morning. 

Renjun tries not to think too hard about the feeling of Jaemin’s bare skin, the defined muscles, the warmth, the v-lines on his lower abdomen that led down to his sweatpants. He tries not to think of how it made his heart skip a little bit when Jaemin lays an arm around his waist. So he closes his eyes, and forces himself to rest. Hoping that in his dreams, he’ll forget how this man makes him feel. 

  
  


Later that same day, the two find themselves on a pretty abandoned shack in the middle of a bright yellow field. It was half ran down, with an entire side of the wall missing and exposed to the beautiful field, highlighted extra bright from the midday sun. Renjun only had about an hour before he had to go back to the village and resume his tasks. 

Today was the 21st. And according to Jaemin’s notebook, he was to learn about occupations, or jobs. Renjun would have shown him around the village and told him about people’s jobs while they were working, but Jaemin had chosen the worst time to have this topic, for due to the Spring Festival, everything was on pause. People in Jebaek had flexible jobs for the most part, for life in the village was not anything to be demanding of. 

So instead, Renjun takes him to this wheat field, where on most days, there are some people working here harvesting the crops for the grain silo, one of the more important jobs in Jebaek. They sit in the open side of the abandoned shack while Renjun chews on some candy he had picked up before they left. He lectures Jaemin, and even after all this time, he is not used to the way Jaemin looks intently at him as he speaks. 

He was lecturing Jaemin on the pay system and most typical jobs found in Jebaek. Jaemin jots down notes, and when he isn’t, he twirls his pen in his fingers. 

While Renjun lectures, he can’t help but notice the behavior, and remembers all of the other times he has caught Jaemin twirling the pen. Which was about every other day, when they were going through topics. Renjun even catches Jaemin twirling in early in the morning when he lays in bed unable to sleep. 

He finishes up his sentence and then asks, “Did you know you have a habit of spinning your pen?” 

Jaemin stops and action and looks up from his notebook and over at his friend, “Oh this? Yeah. I’ve been told.”

“Why?” Renjun asks, resting his chin on the palm of his own hand as he sits with his legs crissed crossed. 

Jaemin purses his lips and then looks up at the incredibly blue sky today before replying, “I’ve always been doing that since middle school, I guess. I used to want to be a writer. To write fantasy or action novels. But I’d never know what to write, so I’d just sit there with a blank page and nothing to do, so I’d just twirl my pen, itching for something interesting to write.”

And then Jaemin shrugs, “I guess it just stuck to me.”

Renjun hums and then prods, “Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?” Jaemin asks for clarification. 

“Stop wanting to be an author,” Renjun makes himself clear. 

Jaemin chuckles dryly at the question, “You’re smart, aren’t you? Try to riddle it out yourself.”

Renjun pursed his lips and then leaned back. Jaemin was right. He knew the answer, “City boy. City dreams. You want to make money. You want to be stable. Writing novels isn’t going to get you there, or at least, that’s what you think.”

“It’s what I _know_ ,” Jaemin corrects him, “Renjun, only 1 in 10 writers are able to make a full-time living off of writing. A whole 17 percent make nothing.”

“There you go again,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes, “With your statistics. With your numbers. If you let yourself be confined by them, then your failure is on yourself.”

Jaemin could say that Renjun is right, but he doesn’t. Instead, he shrugs and holds up his notebook, “Maybe. But that’s a chance I’m not willing to take. Writing novels might not make money, but you know what will? Writing this thesis and fulfilling my requirements for that research job.” 

Renjun groans and then gives up, “Suit yourself, city-slicker.”

Jaemin then asks, since they were on the topic of jobs, “How about you, villager? What have you always wanted to do for a living?”

Renjun then smiles, “What I’m doing now, Jaemin.”

And Jaemin can see he’s telling the truth. Inside, he feels a bit of envy.

  
  
  


Night falls, and Jaemin almost wished he wasn’t alone. He wonders what would happen if he shows up at the frame of Renjun’s bedroom again. He wonders what would happen if he lets Renjun lay with him again. He wonders what would happen if, like the other night, Renjun tells him that he didn’t want Jaemin to leave the room. 

But most of all, Jaemin wonders what would happen, if this time, he doesn’t. If this time, he doesn’t leave the room. What would it feel like to fall asleep through the night with Renjun on his chest, enclosed in his arms. What would it feel like to hear his soft breathing as the hours go by. What would it feel like to watch the sun rise in pretty oranges and yellows. 

It was too bad that Jaemin doesn’t find out, because his thoughts stop there. And he realizes that he is still in his room. Alone, and with no intentions to chase after his useless thoughts. 

Instead, he opens his notebook and crosses the day out. 

~~Day 21. Occupations.~~ Done.

  
  
  


Renjun doesn’t show up the next morning at the site where he usually does the water filtration, but only because Jaemin tells him to sleep in and he’ll do it for him. Initially , Renjuj had protested but gave in once it looked like Na Jaemin was not going to be convinced otherwise. 

_The festival is tomorrow and you have shit to do. Just let me be useful, Jun._ Jaemin has told him and insisted on it until Renjun had lost the will to argue. Jaemin said he’d do it around 3 A.M. or so and finish up around 5 AM., which was the time when Renjun usually _started_ when he did it _._ Renjun thought that was an unreasonable time, but Jaemin assures him that he usually isn’t asleep at that time anyways, which was a bit concerning but they just take it as that.

So 5:09 A.M. rolls around and Huang Renjun should be sleeping in. 

However, since for years he had been waking up at the same time every morning to perform this task, even when he doesn’t have to, Renjun’s body naturally wakes him up around that time. Now, he _could_ go back to sleep in his own bed. He _could_ go and close his eyes once more. 

But he comes up with the excuse that it’s a little chilly in his house tonight even though he had more than enough blankets and it was Spring, where the weather was pretty warm here in Jebaek.

And he slips out of bed. Out of his house. And makes his way across the cobblestone streets until he’s in front of jaemin’s house. He slips in and begins his way up the stairs until he stands at the door frame. 

Jaemin, who had been trying to sleep after getting in from finishing Renjun’s job successfully, noticed the noise and turned: 

He gave the boy an amused look and laughed a little into the darkness, “Renjun? I didn’t take on your job just for you to not take advantage of it and get some more sleep in, you know” he said with a chuckle. 

Renjun scratches at the name of his neck, “I know”

“So,” Jaemin asks, hands propped behind him as he sits up on the bed, “What brings you here all this way?” 

Renjunj bits his cheek and decides to make up some excuse, “I’m cold, Nana.” And then he adds, “Keep me warm.” 

Jaemin raised an eyebrow in the dark at the nickname, which he hadn’t actually heard Renjun call him the entire time they had been here. He then gestures his head towards Renjun’s outfit, “I’m not surprised, especially with you dressing like that.” 

Renjuj looks down at his own attire and realizes he was only wearing a loose and thin cotton shirt and sleeping shorts so short that his shirt completely covered them. Jaemin swears that everytime he looks back, the shorts just kept getting shorter, and he has to force himself to look away. 

Renjun shrugs, “My bad.” 

Jaemin then looks at the sheets kicked down to the ground and the fact that he slept almost naked because it was so hot, “ _You_ can’t sleep because you’re cold. And _I_ can’t sleep because I’m hot.” 

“Oh,” Renjun remembers and then apologizes, “I’d only make it worse, right? I’m sorry; I’ll just…go” he said figuring he was pestering the other.

Before he could even turn to go, Jaemin abruptly says, “Come here.” 

_Come here_. The command sends chills down Renjun’s spine and he finds his knees want to go weak at the request. He needs to stop bothering his friend and leave. That’s what he should do, right? Jaemin was only giving in to be nice, right? He didn’t actually want him to be barging in and go making his sleep more of a living hell than it seemed to already be, Renjun was sure. 

The raven haired boy shakes his head and makes a move to turn, “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to be n-”

“Renjun,” Jaemin says again, “Come here.” He repeats himself, “Or I’ll come get you myself.” 

It was almost as if Renjun waited for him to be given no choice, because at that statement, Renjun finds his legs slowly walking towards the bed, suddenly feeling timid when just moments ago, he was so bold in asking. The fact that he got out of his own bed and walked across Jebaek for this was bold. He blames it on his irrational just-woke-up state of mind. 

When he gets to the edge of the bed, Jaemin held his right arm out to guide Renjun to him by the waist, until the next thing he knew, what happened yesterday happened again. Once again, Renjun finds himself wrapped up in Jaemin’s strong arms, head nuzzled up in his bare torso. Feeling the warmth of Jaemin’s skin. 

Renjun ignores the fact that this is not _normal_ . Normal friends do _not_ hold each other like this at wee hours in the morning. He wonders if Jaemin ignores it too. Because if they both recognized it, neither said anything to call it out. If this is ignorance, then Renjun feels as if he can stay in this ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

Jaemin must have miraculously fallen asleep because that was one of the best sleep he has had since he had gotten here. When he wakes up, well into the afternoon, Huang Renjun was gone. He pushes the slight feeling of disappointment away and brings himself up to sit. He wondered why he slept better than usual. Maybe the room got colder. No, that wasn’t it. And even then, Renjun’s warm body would have made that point invalid. Maybe he had finally gotten used to the Jebaek nights. No, he figures it was too sudden. Or maybe, it was because of Renjun himself. The boy must have taken his mind off the heat, off the silence, off the crickets. It was like magic. And then Jaemin shakes his head. No. That’s not it. It doesn’t make any sense. 

  
  


Jaemin doesn’t see Renjun too much for the rest of the day. And he admits that he misses the smaller, albeit understanding of why Renjun wasn’t able to see him. The festivities were to happen tomorrow evening, and everything had to be perfect. Strings of unlit lanterns hung above the streets, waiting to be lighted up tomorrow night. Floral arrangements celebrating the coming of Spring aligned the cobblestone roads and were decorated everywhere, in window sills, on benches, and on people’s porches or shopfronts. 

Jaemin helps with what he can, which was limited to moving things around or fixing basic equipment. Other than that, there were niche tasks that each person did with their own skills. Jaemin admires it, and takes extra notice of all the small details that add up to a joint effort from Jebaek to make this festival as great as possible. 

It was only later in the evening, around 6 P.M. or so, and the sun was on its descent, that Renjun finds the time to see his friend. Since the sun was going down and soon, there weren't going to be as much light to work on anything, he’s allowed to rest for the evening in anticipation for the celebration tomorrow. 

Renjun first looks in Jaemin’s house for the man, but finds him nowhere. Frowning, he decides to ask around a little bit until he hears one of the little girls from the village drag her friend quickly down the cobblestone streets, “Yuna, come on! Mr. Jaemin is almost finished with the story.”

Renjun caught wind of the conversation and finds himself jogging behind the kids, until he reached the small clearing that the kids had been playing ball in the very first day Jaemin came to Jebaek. This time, instead of off to the side watching, Jaemin was in the center of a cultish circle on the grass, sitting down with his legs out in front of him. Around him were a growing amount of village kids who sat gathered together, listening intently and gasping occasionally to whatever Jaemin had to say. 

Renjun watched as he approached and couldn’t help but want to beam from one ear to the other. Jaemin was expressive with his words, moved his hands in wild movements, and got the children so excited that they were practically squirming in their seats. Renjun could only catch brief words, but from what he figured, his friend was telling the children a story about dragons and wild adventures. 

The brown haired man, upon seeing Renjun walking over looking so pretty with his bouncing black hair and smiling eyes, paused and smiled to himself before turning to the kids, “Well look what we have here. It’s the pretty prince from the story.” Jaemin said while gesturing to Renjun. The boy went pink in the face and he curses at Jaemin mentally.

The kids all turned to the raven hair boy’s direction and got up off the grass, running over to Renjun before attacking him with hugs and all sorts of questions ranging from _Did you really see a dragon?_ And even _When are you going to kiss the knight?_

Renjun raises an eyebrow at the question and decides to tease Jaemin from a distance, “Hm, I don’t know. When does the knight _want_ me to kiss him?”

Jaemin tongues his cheek with a goofy grin mixed with a smirk before shoving his hands in his pockets. He takes slow steps forward while looking up at the sky as if he was thinking, “Whenever the prince wants.” He replies. 

Renjun rolls his eyes and he shakes his head before looking back at the kids, who were still pestering him with questions.

Finally, Jaemin claps his hands, getting their attentions, “Ah, look! Me and the prince have to go fight a sea serpent now. I’ll continue the story when we come back,” He made up an excuse and then added this for dramatic effect, “ _If_ we come back.”

Before they could get pestered further, Jaemin briskly jogged away, grabbing Renjun by the wrist and pulling him alongside him as he does. They make a small run for it until they lose all of them and then Jaemin comes to a stop. Renjun does too, but his chest is heaving, for he doesn’t do much cardio. 

Renjun looks up at him, while heaving with his hands on his knees, “Do people in the city usually flirt with their friends like you do? Because I don’t remember reading about that anywhere.”

Jaemin shrugs his shoulders and lies through his teeth, “Yeah. All the time.” 

Renjun narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue, “ _Right_.”

Jaemin then laughs and brings a hand up to ruffle Renjun’s hair, “It feels weird not to have seen you all day.”

Renjun then cocks his head to the side with a sly smile, “What, did you miss me?”

Jaemin gives him a daring smile of his own, “Maybe a little.” 

Renjun finds himself a little daring and takes a step forward, still adorning a mischievous smile, “Just a little?”

He got a little too close, for Jaemin’s eyes dropped down to his lips. Or maybe Renjun was mistaken? He could have easily made that up. Jaemin then says in a voice that was too low for Renjun’s mental health, “Watch yourself there, Jun.” 

Renjun just smiles in response and takes a step back, laughing to himself a little. Jaemin puts his hands in his pocket and looks at the ground with a grin. 

Then Renjun crosses his arms and teeters back and forth, “Jaemin.”

Jaemin hums in response. 

“Do you like abandoned trains?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin knew the pattern by now when Renjun asked questions like that and he waved his arms in an “X” motion in front of him and shook his head adamantly, “Oh _no no no._ Renjun, who the _fuck_ likes abandoned trains. What kind of question is that. Hell n-”

“Us when we were little,” Renjun rolls his eyes and said in a sarcastic manner. 

Jaemin narrows his eyes, “Wait,” He pauses, “Aren’t _you_ the one who’s afraid of haunted things?” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not _thrilling_ to do,” Renjun says and pokes at Jaemin, “So how about it? Do you like abandoned trains?”

“Not particularly,” Jaemin says laughing this time and then gives in, “But…” He counters, “If I did, then I’d like to remember.”

Renjun smiles and takes his hand, “You will.”

  
  


As the sunset is at its most golden moment, with an orange cast over everything it touches, they walk past the current train station and far along a grassy path. They don’t hurry. Not in the slightest. There was something about the way the orange glow made Renjun’s brown eyes shimmer that made Jaemin want to slow time down even more. The way it made their skin luminate. It was if someone put an old film on their life, for Renjun’s eyes saw everything in a bittersweet nostalgic light. He tried not to blink, for if he did, he was scared he’d forget it all the next moment. 

They walk close to each other, arms brushing gently. Renjun’s fingers playfully twirl around Jaemin’s wrist softly, as if by accident. The wild grass went up to their calves, making them itch a bit. But Renjun doesn’t mind. He just thinks of how nice it would be if he held Jaemin’s hand right now. Not in a _grabbing_ way, like how’d he drag the other when they needed to go somewhere. But a _real_ hand hold, where their fingers intertwined delicately. 

Renjun plays with the idea as they wade through the grass at golden hour. His forearms would slide past Jaemin’s, and he’d let his fingertips gently brush against the other’s for a second before shuffling past. 

Jaemin let out a little puff of air through his nose and tried to hide his smile. He peeked through the fringe of his hair and gave up on not trying to let out a grin. Renjun was looking off to the side as if he didn’t know full well what he was doing. 

Jaemin decides to stop Renjun’s little antics, and the next time Renjun’s fingers ‘accidentally’ brush past his, Jaemin takes a hold of the pretty hand. He takes a hold of it and slips his larger fingers in between Renjun’s. The boy in question looked over, shocked, as if he hadn’t actually expected what he wanted to happen. 

He opened his pretty pink lips and looked up at the taller. He wasn’t sure what to say. Jaemin doesn’t look at him, but Renjun could tell he was thinking of him. For the man’s humored smile as he stares ahead as they walked was indicative. Jaemin’s fingers felt so nice in his own, and Renjun enjoys it more than he intended to. He wasn’t sure what to say.

As if Jaemin had read his mind, the man opens his mouth to speak as they walk, “You don’t have to say anything. We can just keep this here.” _This_ . What was _this_ , that Jaemin was talking about. _This_ could well be them holding hands like this, like lovers. _This_ could also be the unspoken growing truth that appears to be evident by the day, but neither wanted to actually face it. 

The abandoned train was still on its tracks, which were beaten and broken. The wooden traintracks had an abundance of overgrowth on it, indicating that this place had been left to no use for a while. As they step foot on the rails, Jaemin, as if on command, feels his mind getting dizzy as little flashes of memory fill the gaps he had of his past. Short legs itching from the tall grass. Drinking melon juice in an empty freight car with their legs hanging off the side. Trying hard to climb to the top of the train boxes, but never being able to because of how small they were. Jaemin’s legs took him faster, and he clutched Renjun’s fingers between his own tighter as he jogss down the tracks. Until finally, the front of the freight train strares back at him along with all of his memories. 

The train itself was deeper in the overgrowth, that clung to the sides of the carts. Some of the train carts were pulled open and filled with emptiness and the occasional spider. Others were sealed shut. Jaemin takes it all in, Renjun by his side. They walk along the tracks, admiring how eerie it was. Finally, Jaemin jumps up and uses his upper body strength to hoist himself up on the top before leaning down to reach a hand out and help Renjun, who takes it graciously. 

They walk across the top of the train like that for a while, avoiding bird’s nests that had made their home there. As well as anything in their way. It was a flat top, so they were easily able to walk side by side under the setting sun like this. Talking. Laughing. Smiling a little more than either of them are used to. Ultimately, they find themselves sitting on the top of a brick-colored freight car, legs in front of themselves, and staring in the direction of the sun, where it only has a sliver of light left before the mountain engulfed it. Dusk, they call it. The time before the sun completely goes down, where it was dark but not dark enough for the stars to shine. It was beautiful up here, with Jaemin by his side. 

  
  


Later that night, when he gets home, Renjun can still feel the ghost of Jaemin’s fingers in his own. Maybe he shouldn’t have been curious, because now that he knows just how good it feels, how could he not ask again. That time, it wasn’t to pull him away. Or take him somewhere. That time, it was just to hold his hand. That time, there were no pretenses. 

He looks at his list and wishes the days would slow down. 

~~Day 22. The train.~~ Done.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jaemin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 5:00 P.M. the day of the Spring Festival. And everything was set up. Although Renjun had been working all day, Jaemin was too. One of the village elders had asked that he go out into the forest with a group of able bodied citizens of Jebaek and help chop dry logs to use in their large bonfire for tonight. They were going to burn white dove feathers to symbolize the departure of winter and the coming of Spring. So all day, he had been out in the forest, axe in hand and chopping logs to put on a mule cart. So by the time he came back into Jebaek at 5:29 P.M. or so, the festivities had already begun. 

He knew because he checked his wristwatch, but he noticed something while doing so. He had been doing that a lot less, checking the time. When he first arrived in Jebaek, he had checked the thing every twenty minutes, as if he had somewhere to be. He had checked it so often that it was part of his bodily habits. However, as time went by and he stays in this place where time seems to stop, even he begins to check it a lot less. He still checked it of course, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't notice his habit was dying off. He brushes the thought aside, and goes on with his task. 

The topic of today had been changed to holidays, since Jaemin found that to be more convenient given the circumstances, for he could just observe it himself. 

All around the streets, there was beautiful decorations. Children running around in flower crowns, or masks shaped like flowers. They chased each other in the cobblestone streets or raced one another to the activity stations placed here and there. The activity stations ranged from facial paint of floral designs to a paper lantern making station. Groups of teens stuck together, playing small athletic games. Everyone who made food set up a cart or table outside where they’d offer up their dishes. Steaming bowls of noodles cooked in a slow-simmered chicken broth. Rice cakes covered in a dense, savory sauce. Fluffy desserts that seemed to melt in your mouth. 

There were kites in the skies, hand stitched and handcrafted from the handle to the fabrics. The lanterns were lit although it wasn’t necessarily dark yet, and the entirety of Jebaek was embraced in a glow of pink, purple, green, and a variety of multicolor lanterns. Floral arrangements lined the streets and thousands upon thousands of petals were scattered on the streets, whipping up when the wind blew in gently. Music played from traditional instruments in every corner, with fingers plucking on old strings in beautiful melodies. There was even dancing in front of the performances. 

Jaemin drops of all the wood in the designated circle outlined in chalk, and brushes his hands off on his pants. He runs home really quick to change in a cleaner outfit and then heads back out to join the festivities. 

Immediately, he gets thrown in the middle of all of the action. The moment he was spotted, Zhong Chenle waved to him and pulled him over to play a game of darts set up at a booth. He enjoys himself. In fact, for the next hour or so, he enjoys himself a lot. He joins all of Renjun’s friends as they indulge in the festivities, without Renjun himself. Jaemin grabs a sample of the foods, being famished from working all day. And he lets himself relax to the music, or get competitive at the games. 

But after some time, Jaemin gets curious. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking around all night. 

“Jeno,” Jaemin nudges the man, “Is Renjun not going to meet us tonight?” 

Jeno looked surprised at the question and then broke out into a wide grin, “Did he not tell you?”

“Tell me what?” 

“Every year, he’s a part of the show,” Jeno explains. 

Jaemin was confused. He remembers that morning when Renjun first told him about the Spring Festival. He had asked the man what happens at the festival. Renjun had mumbled something about the show, and when Jaemin asked, he distinctly remembers his friend telling him “ _you’ll see.”_ He figures this was it. 

“What show?” Jaemin inquires, bringing his cup of herb infused tea to his lips.

“He doesn’t know what _the show_ is?” Donghyuck poked his head into the conversation then laughs. 

“Give him a break, guys. He’s not from here,” Jisung defends him but hides a smile. 

Jeno clears his throat, “At every Spring Festival, there’s a traditional garment competition. Both male and female. And whoever wins gets named the Spring Prince or Princess of Jebaek.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow and let out a laugh, “So _that’s_ what he was shy about?”

He imagines Renjun in a pretty traditional hanbok. It was going to look good, he was sure. 

“Kim Soo Min wins every year,” Chenle says while chewing on some sticky dessert, “But I went to see Renjun get his hanbok tailored the other day. And let me tell you, he’s going to win this year.”

Jaemin doesn't have to wait that long to see what Chenle is talking about because shortly after this conversation took place, some chimes rung and before he knew it, he was being pushed in a certain direction until he was inside of a crowd that gathered around a large stage. All made from cherry oak and sanded down a little bit. Bright lanterns were placed around the stage and people stood on the side with different colors of paper so that they could throw it over the lantern when needed and cast a colored light onto the stage. It was like a more complicated version of stage spotlights. 

The MC speaks in a loud voice and begins yelling over the crowd of people standing around in anticipation. The person announcing the entire show was awfully slow at his job, and it took a while before the show actually starts. However, his speeches about Spring and the festival allowed time for a larger crowd to gather around. Jaemin pushed himself near the front, followed by his friends. 

Finally, the first girl came out. It was not a traditional fashion-show like competition, where the participants just walk out, strike a pose, and go back. Instead, each participant performed either a little dance or a talent that lasted around two minutes. Some girls sang or played an instrument. Pretty dresses in all types of colors. Some guys danced. Men also participated, but their traditional hanboks were more masculine, with the fabrics cutting off at the ground and colored dark blue or grays. Jaemin clapped after each one. 

Jisung nudges him when Kim Soo Min comes out and Jaemin looks up. He admits that she looked very pretty. A baby pink hanbok graced her body, with a turquoise blue jeogori jacket. Her hair was styled up in the traditional way, and light makeup dusted her face. It was simple, yet very elegant. On the bottom of her dress was floral embroidery. He could see very well why she had a streak of winning. The girl was gorgeous in the dress. 

The crowd clapped and the judges panel looked very happy with her performance, in which she did an umbrella dance. The sun was down, so the lanterns that were shades pink for her performance was very warm. However, they were now transitioning the stage for the next performance, but everyone seemed to still be in awe of Kim Soo Min’s performance. 

Jaemin looks around at the jubilant crowd and then laughs while turning to Donghyuck to make a comment, “So I guess she’s the winner, huh.”

The village friend looks ahead and his lips part, not looking at Jaemin at all, before clearing his throat, “Not just yet.” 

Curious, Jaemin figures that the next performer must have gone out and he turns around to see what Donghyuck had been looking at with those surprised eyes. When he turns back to the stage, Jaemin almost wished he never had. For now he knew, the image will forever stay in his mind, with nothing to never compare. 

They had changed the paper mache on the lanterns so that instead of casting a pink light on the stage, a blue paper mache replaced it. The entire stage was lit up in a hazy whitish blue, like on a snowy winter night. On either sides of the stage, fake fog made up of a mixture of distilled water and extracted vegetable glycerine. It snaked onto the stage and made the mood ominous. The sound of traditional bamboo reed music began playing and the crowd fell silent. 

But the crowd did not go quiet from the moody ambience, but from the person who shyly peeked onto the stage. Slow, but deliberate steps, as if it was part of the routine. Everyone held their breaths, as if they were afraid they’d lose it if they let it out. Jaemin himself felt as if his eyes weren’t worthy to look upon what he was seeing. 

Huang Renjun’s traditional outfit was not like anyone else's, male _or_ female. It combined aspects of both and then neither at all. While most men’s hanbok stopped at their ankles for a more masuline feel, Renjunn’s flowed to the ground and even flared a little bit on either sides of him. Its color was white, like snow. In the blue lighting, it looked as if it glowed. Like a swan upon a dark night. His sleeves flared out into a bell shape at the ends, as if he was wearing the robes of ancient royalty. The bottom of the sleeves had golden cuffs, intricately designed with korean symbols, that ran its circumference. 

A similar golden band wrapped around his waist that acted like the goreum, which were the coat strings that tied together the top jeogori jacket to the bottom part. He was wearing pants underneath it in the traditional male fashion, but they were not able to be seen underneath the train of the skirt unless he kicked it up and revealed the shimmering golden accent for pants. Using the same shining gold thread, images of dragons weaving through fields of roses and thorns were stitched near the bottom of his skirt. It was stunning. It did not look too feminine, but it also did not look too masculine. 

It only helped that Renjun himself looked hauntingly beautiful. On smooth skin, a light dust of rose made his cheeks look naturally flushed. To contrast with the white of his dress and blue of the stage, on the outer corner of his eyes was red shadow. It made his eyes pop brilliantly and give a mysterious expression. Light pink lips from being brushed with a bit of body paint. In his hair, delicately weaved into the left side behind his ear was a flower crystal barrette, in the shape of lilies. 

In his hand was a fan, in the color red to contrast with everything else. When Renjun began moving, it felt as if the fan and him were one. Jaemin could not take his eyes off, and he wouldn’t be surprised if no one else could either. His friend was beautiful. Every flick of the wrist, every expression as he danced with the fan, every twirl, Jaemin’s eyes were glued to it. He knew he didn’t even have to try memorizing what was happening, for it will follow him to sleep. When he closes his eyes, this hauntingly beautiful performance will be there. And he will welcome it. 

When Renjun finishes, he looks at the crowd breathing lightly and breaks character. He looks around as if finding someone, and when he catches Jaemin’s eyes, Renjun lets out a big smile. Jaemin could not find himself reciprocating, for he was just so _stunned_. Absolutely stunned. The crowd did not hesitate for a moment to cheer their loudest for Renjun, in absolute mesmerization, even more so than Kim Soo Min. Even when Renjun gets ushered off the stage, his eyes trail his back. 

Before he knew it, Jaemin found himself moving amongst the crowd, weaving through it. He had to see Renjun again. He had to take one more look. Had to talk to him. 

Jaemin gently pushed until he had enough room to run behind the stage and let himself through. And there he was. 

Renjun in all of his beauty, and Jaemin finds him at a lack of words. 

Renjun turns and is a bit surprised to see him there but he smiled brightly anyways, and Jaemin can’t help but think how pretty that smile was. 

Renjun took the barrette out of his hair while speaking, “Was I okay?” 

Jaemin opened his mouth to speak but it took a moment to formulate his words, “Why are you asking me questions you already know the answer to.”

Renjun shrugged with a smile, “Maybe I just want to hear you say it yourself.” 

Jaemin then shakes his head with a laugh, “You look beautiful, Renjun.”

Renjun laughs with a thankful smile and then realizes, "So why are you back here, Jaemin? The show doesn't end for another half hour."

Jaemin shook his head and decided to go fuck it and be honest, "Renjun, it ended for me the moment you walked on the stage. And if I'm being honest, it ended for everyone else too."

"You need to watch your words," Renjun shook his head but still softly smiled, "It has its effects."

"Then so be it," He shrugged, "You need to know, Jun. You're a clear winner."

Renjun smiles at that. And then walks over to Jaemin. 

Looking up at the man, he asks, “Can you help me out of this? It's complicated to take off, and I don't need to wear it anymore.” 

Jaemin looks down at his pretty friend and lets out a low, ‘Yeah.’

Renjun then reaches down to guide Jaemin to one of the dressing rooms while grabbing a casual outfit out from a chair. Once inside, Jaemin closes the door behind them and turns toward his friend. Renjun turns his back to Jaemin and has his head tilted to the side to direct his frined. _The string_ , he says. 

Jaemin steps closer until his hands found the fabric of Renjun’s outfit, and he rakes his hand over until he finds the string, a golden twine. He then pulls until the sash falls to the floor. From the outside, flute music was playing for the next performer, but Jaemin knew that nothing was going to beat what he just saw. From the back, Jaemin unties the jegeori jacket and slides it off of Renjun’s arms, brushing a little bit down the sides as he does so. 

The skirt bottom was next and, Jaemin makes slow work unbuttoning the first layer until it drops to the ground. In fact, he makes slow work with _all_ the layers, and he can feel Renjun getting more and more tense as Jaemin gets closer to his skin. Jaemin wanted to step forward and bury his nose into Renjun’s soft hair or lean his body up against his friend’s but he resisted the thought. The bottom most layer was some sort of a sheet, found in many traditional Joseon era hanboks, and all that needed to be done was to slip it off. 

The thin fabric easily falls off under Jaemin’s fingers as if it was delicate dust that crumbles at a single touch and then he was left with Huang Renjun’s bare skin. His back was soft and had a beautiful curve at the hip, and slender shoulders upon milky smooth skin. He had seen Renjun like this before, when they swim, but never in such a beautiful context like this. As he peeled back that sheet layer, his fingers unintentionally glide across the naked expanse of Renjun’s back, and the smaller man shivers under the touch. 

Without anything else to do unless he wanted the last _bottom_ layer off, Jaemin steps back. Renjun turns to the side, holding himself almost shyly, and says a soft thanks. 

Jaemin nodded and took this as his cue to step out while Renjun does the rest himself. When he steps out, Jaemin leans his back against the wall and looks up, running his hand through his hair as he tries to figure out why his heart was beating like this. 

When Renjun comes out, he smiles at the brown haired man and takes his hand. 

Renjun ended up winning the title of Spring Prince, and the look on Kim Soo Min’s face was priceless. On top of that, Jaemin had the pleasure of having the _Spring Prince_ all to himself for the rest of the night. They continue the festival activities together, playing the mini games set up. Or strolling through the streets, admiring the lanterns. Later that night, there was a skit put on by the teenagers of Jebaek too, and they watched that. Renjun also had Jaemin try all types of food. Overall, it was a beautiful night, and in Jaemin’s opinion, he had spent it with a beautiful person. 

Renjun savors it all while he can. He savors the happiness that he was feeling, but tries to push down the growing sadness also. He couldn’t help but think, as Jaemin walks side by side with him, if they could have done this every day if only Renjun was born someone else, someone who meets Jaemin in Seoul. Someone who goes to whatever university it is and studies some smart subject and then works in some successful job. 

He wonders if Jaemin is going to come back to his home in 27 days and go on dates in the cute cafe or large movie theatres he talks about. He wonders what it would have been like if that were him instead. He wonders if Jaemin was going to go back home in 27 and go skyline watching or visit some 7/11 in the middle of the night looking for painkillers after a long night of partying. And he wonders what it would be like if he was by his side instead.

The thought plagues Renjun’s mind and he pushes it away as best as he could. He was doubting himself, and he hated it. He was doubting everything he had always been so strongly adamant about, and he knew it was Jaemin’s fault. 

If only the boy never had come back. If only the boy had just never _fucking_ come back.

The bonfire began at some point in the night, and the two stood around it, about to throw the ceremonial white dove feathers in. But just as that was about to happen, they all heard a pop. Looking towards the direction of where it came from, the whole crowd of Jebaek was in awe at the sudden color that bursted in the sky. Fireworks. Renjun found himself smiling at their beauty. Pretty colors of red, pinks, and blues. They spilled patterns across the dark sky and had the whole village in jubilee. 

Smiling widely, he turned to Jaemin, whose eyes were glued to the colorful sky. And it felt as if the world had paused for a second as he became mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He didn’t see Jaemin for just his handsome face, or nice body, for his eyes or his lips. Watching Na Jaemin fall in love with the fireworks in the sky, Renjun just saw how much he wanted to see that smile forever. He saw the man who went out of his way to take care of Renjun when seeing that Renjun took care of so much. He saw the man who opens his eyes further to a world that he only previously had stereotypes about. He saw the man who holds his hand as they walk through sunlit fields together, or swim in crystalline waters with. 

He saw the man who he can no longer deny the truth for: he wanted Jaemin to stay. 

_Fuck_ , Renjun suddenly felt immense pain in his chest as the realization sunk in. He wanted him to stay. He wanted him to stay so bad, and he knew he did this to himself. All the days of spending so many hours with each other. The nights or mornings where he'd find his way into Jaemin's arms. The deep conversations had in a moonlit field or floating on some body of water. The lighthearted flirting anywhere and everywhere. The lingering feeling of his touch whenever they'd brush arms or be a little too close.

It had all come back to bite him in the end. 

Suddenly, he needed to get away. Taking a step back, Renjun’s previous smile turned into an expression of panic. He looked around and the fireworks suddenly felt too loud in his ears, the crackling of the bonfire too sharp, the presence of Na Jaemin too strong. 

He takes a step backwards and Jaemin notices. Renjun reads his lips as he says something with a concerned look on his face, but Renjun doesn’t hear him. He barely hears anything. 

He barely even hears his voice as he speaks, “ _I have to go._ ”

He barely feels his footsteps as he walks away. 

But what he _can_ feel clearly, and so strongly in his chest, is the burning pain of his realization, the searing torture of knowing in 27 days, he will lose someone he had just _found_. 

~~Day 23. Holidays.~~ Done. 

* * *

  
  
  


Na Jaemin stands in front of the completed task for the morning. For the third day in a row, he had done Renjun’s morning work for him. The raven haired boy insisted that he can resume it now that the activities for the festival are over; however, Jaemin had told Renjun that he insisted he still help him out. It was the least he could do to pay Renjun back for his time. Besides, the task was not too hard for him. It gave him something to do rather than waste the morning in bed trying to sleep. Not to mention that Jaemin could sense how much it meant to Renjun. Jaemin could see it: the boy who carried the entire village on his small shoulders, who did everything for everyone. Jaemin could tell by the way Renjun looked genuinely surprised when someone offered to do something for _him_. It was priceless, and Jaemin would do this every morning until he goes back to Seoul if it meant that his friend would look that happy. 

However, this mind could not help but replay the moment last night. When Renjun left. The look on his friend’s face as he stepped back. It was as if Renjun was terrified of something. As if he had been absolutely shocked by something. _I have to go_ , he had said. Jaemin heard pain in his voice, and he had barely been able to sleep all night repeating how terrified his friend looked. 

So here he stands now, and it was around 4:12 A.M. The whole system had been completed and he looked up towards the sky. It was dark and there were several more hours for him to try to go to sleep back at his house, but there was no exhaustion in his body. 

So instead, Jaemin goes on a walk around Jebaek. 

The festival from last night had been wonderful, and there were still decorations strewn about the ground. Strings would catch onto his feet as he shuffled through the streets. Candy was splattered on the ground, and the stage still sat in the middle. The bonfire from last night was still smoking, although all of the fire had been put out. The village was dead quiet, for everyone was dead asleep from the exhaustion of the previous day. He was a fool himself for being up this early. 

When Jaemin gets to the south end of the village, he almost gets a heart attack. The last thing he expected at this time in the morning was to see a person on the bench in front of the corn fields. He looks down at his watch to see if he had read the time wrong earlier. No, he hadn’t. Jaemin’s eyebrows were pulled together and he stared at the figure in the distance. His legs began moving towards it. There was only one person he knew that went to this place, and the thought that it might be Renjun made Jaemin move even faster. 

When he neared the bench, his suspicions were confirmed. It was Renjun. At this point, Jaemin could recognize the profile of the boy’s back better than anyone. However, Renjun sat there with his knees pulled up to his chest, with arms holding them together. Instead of looking towards the field like he usually does, Renjun had his head buried in his knees, as if he was hiding from the world. 

Concerned, Jaemin made his presence known, “Odd time to be here, don’t you think?”

At the sudden intrusion, Renjun whipped his body around, startled and stared at Jaemin with wide eyes. The smaller’s chest breathed heavily from the shock, but once he realized who it was, Renjun’s expression seemed to fall into one of sadness. Jaemin did not fail to notice that. Renjun turned his head back towards the front and brought his knees up to his chest again. 

He didn’t say anything. 

Jaemin found this behavior strange so he made slow steps towards the other, until Jaemin leaned his hip against the edge of the bench, looking down at his friend whose eyes did not leave the field. 

“Jun?” Jaemin asks again, wanting his usually talkative friend to say something. 

Renjun lets out a soft hum in response, barely noticeable. 

Jaemin takes his words slow, “Why are you here.” 

At that, Renjun’s body seemed to go a little rigid and his breath got caught in his throat. The raven haired boy pursed his lips and took so long to respond that Jaemin thought that he wasn’t going to, “I can’t sleep.” 

Jaemin laughs gently, “That makes the two of us. What’s your reasoning?” 

Renjun’s grip on his knees get tighter and he looks down, “I’ve come to a realization…” And then his voice gets quieter, “One that I don’t want to have.”

Jaemin hums, “Which is?”

Renjun bites the inside of his cheek and refuses to look at his friend, “I...can’t tell you.” 

Jaemin opens his mouth to protest, but he knew better. Renjun was a strong willed person, who does not go back on his words, who lacks a sense of self-doubt. Na Jaemin doesn’t want to drop the subject, but he knew it would be fruitless to continue trying. 

“Then tell me this,” Jaemin then says, putting his hands in his pocket, “I can’t read you as well as you can read me. So tell me, what are you thinking right now?” 

Renjun goes quiet as that. He knew what Jaemin was doing. He was trying to see if what he was thinking right now had anything to do with his realization. And if he were to tell the truth, then he’d be right. But Renjun thinks about it. Should he tell the truth? Again, this place, at these fields, was the only place where he let himself feel honest with all of his emotions. What would it be if he stops now. 

When Renjun speaks again, in a soft voice, he asks a curious question, “I’m thinking…”

He stops for a long time, and Jaemin has to prod quietly, “yes?”

Renjun hesitates then asks, “There’s hypothetically an infinite number of alternate universes out there, right?”

Jaemin was confused as to where this was headed, but he nods, “Theoretically, yeah.”

“Then…” Renjun should have stopped himself from asking, “Do you think there is one where I’m not me as I am now? Where I’m one of you city people...you know, the people who dress in nice outfits and go to university, the ones who are savvy about the world...the people you like. Do you think there’s one where we would have met in those circumstances?”

Jaemin pursed his lips at the strange question and looked down at his feet before over at his friend, “I'm sure there is.”

Renjun nods and then lets out a small breath, “Do you think I’d be happier in that alternate universe?”

Jaemin laughs airily and then asks, “What’s wrong with the one we have now?” And then he added with a curious frown, “And since when did you, Huang Renjun, who disliked me from the beginning because of your loyalty to Jebaek, have doubts about this?”

“I don’t know,” Renjun frustratedly says and then buries his face in his hands. His voice felt pained and confused, and Jaemin could hear it quickly, “Jaemin, I don’t know. I don’t know.” He repeats, voice getting more pained as he says it. 

Jaemin quickly sees that there was something wrong and moves until he was on one knee right in front of Renjun, hands on either of Renjun’s shoulders, and urging the man to look at him, “Jun, what’s wrong.”

Jaemin wasn’t sure what to do. Renjun, who always made himself strong, even when they were having tense conversation, never let himself be seen as fragile. 

“Jaemin, I don’t know what has gotten into me,” Renjun says, still not looking up, “I-I’m,” He stutters as if the words killed him to say, “having doubts.” 

The words, saying them out loud, hit Renjun like a truck and he has to bite down hard on his lips to hold himself together. If it was one thing that he never allowed himself to do, it was to have _doubts_. Doubts were his worst enemy, for having doubts mean that you don’t trust yourself enough. He thought that having doubts about who you are, how happy you are, where you live, where you want to be means that you are weak.

Renjun never allowed himself to have doubt about Jebaek, for it would prove people like Jaemin and other city slicker types right. It would prove them right about their assumptions of village people. And his pride would not allow that. Renjun never allowed himself to have doubt about his life experiences, for it would prove people like Jaemin right. It would prove them right about how little he has experienced or felt first hand about the world. And he hated that. 

“What do you mean,” Jaemin asks slowly, understanding that this wasn’t a topic that was easy for Renjun to speak on. 

And it wasn’t easy. It was extremely hard for Renjun to then slowly admit, “I could have lived the rest of my life being happy with where I am, in Jebaek. Without wondering what it would be like if I was somewhere else. If I was someone else. And it’s because of you, Jaemin. You come in here, and you prove everything wrong about what I thought about you people, and suddenly, I’m just asking myself, is there more I’m getting wrong about the world because I’m stuck here? And I fucking hate myself for doubting. And for feeling less secure about myself, because there is nothing worse than feeling like this. I'm being...weak. ” 

Renjun’s face looked so distraught and he rests his forehead on his arm. 

Jaemin was a bit shocked, for the last thing he had ever expected from Renjun was to admit his doubt. Or to have anything but an absolutely solid stance on Jebaek. 

Na Jaemin finds himself laughing and tells Renjun something vital, “Renjun, you have the option to leave, even for a day, at your fingertips. You have the option to travel if you want to. No one says that you have to live every single moment of your life here, and why do you do so anyways? Don’t you think that maybe that’s the reason why you’re feeling the way you do? Because you haven’t _experienced_ anything else?”

“Because,” Renjun says, “If I leave, it’s like I’m giving in. It’s like saying Jebaek isn’t good enough so I have to go somewhere else. It's like saying Jebaek really does make me blind to the world. It's like I'm admitting I'm behind in life.” 

Jaemin shakes his head, “That is the most fucked logic I’ve ever heard, Renjun. You’re insecure about how people see you, and it shows. You just mask it under a false sense of confidence.”

Renjun pauses, “I know.”

Jaemin stops his words and then thinks. He thinks for a moment and then stands up, looking around before back down at Renjun. Suddenly, Jaemin tells him, “Alright, let’s fix this. Let’s go. Right now. I can show you what you _think_ you’re missing.” 

Renjun looks at him cautiously, “Go where…?”

Jaemin chuckles, “Where else? The city.” 

Renjun did a double take, “What?”

“You heard me,” Jaemin reaffirms, “It’s an hour train ride to the nearest high-speed rail station, and then a two hour ride from there to Seoul. So three hours in total. We can get there before seven in the morning.”

Renjun sputters and looks at his friend incredulously, “Jaemin, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?”

“How?” He asks, “You’re the one thinking that there is something you’re missing by staying here. And I’m telling you to leave then, for a day. And see for yourself.”

Renjun bit his lip, “But...what about our memory today? I was going to take you to the bea-”

“Fuck it, just forget that for a day,” Jaemin waves off, “Let’s make our own memories, Renjun. I want to take you to the movies. I want to buy you a drink at a cafe. I want to show you the skyline. Let me be the one showing you things for once.”

Renjun opens his mouth to protest, but then stops. Jaemin was right. His doubt had been stopping him from even being curious about what the city was like, for he was afraid if he gives in and goes, then it implied that he cared. But now, that he expressed his doubts to Jaemin, maybe he could get rid of them by going. He didn’t admit that the fact that he would be doing it with _Jaemin_ was what excited him the most.

Muttering, Renjun finally agrees, “Fine.” 

  
  


They sit in the same comfortable seats that Jaemin had sat in when he first arrived in Jebaek. It was early in the morning, but they had been lucky enough to be able to catch a train just as it was riding through the village. However, the seats did not feel as comfortable as they used to. He had been used to sitting on wooden chairs or suede couches in Jebaek that sitting on fine leather again was a strange feeling. 

Beside him, Huang Renjun had his head tilted resting against the window with his eyes closed. Jaemin looked at his outfit. Before they left, Jaemin had ran by his house to grab his wallet and his phone, two things he hadn’t used for a long time since getting in Jebaek. While he was there, he had thrown Renjun a pair of his clothes, suggesting that Renjun should get out of his sleep wear. 

So now, the raven hair boy was adorning an outfit similar to what someone in Seoul would wear. Jaemin’s hoodies look especially large on Renjun, but the man wears the Off-White hoodie well. And since none of Jaemin’s pants would fit him, he just let Renjun wear a pair of black athletic shorts that stopped at his mid thigh. Renjun looked like a city-kid, and Jaemin was not used to the sight. He wasn’t sure what to feel, as he stares at his sleeping friend and just how ‘ _normal’_ he looked in these clothes. 

About an hour later, they switched trains from the slow one to a high speed monorail that linked directly to Seoul. Immediately, going into the station where the state of the art bullet-train was, Renjun could feel a clear difference. There was nothing like this in Jebaek. They weren’t even in Seoul yet, and he could see the huge difference. Clean, white walls of the station. Automated voice systems from the intercom. Even the convenience stores inside of the train station was a shock to him. Renjun knew that most places in the world was making a move towards contemporary design, but it was one thing to read about it and another thing to see it himself after so many years of being in Jebaek, where everything was traditional. 

Jaemin can see the curiosity in his friend’s eyes and takes the time to explain everything to Renjun. 

The bullet train slices through the air like it was nothing. The speed was unmatched, and they were travelling closer and closer to their destination as the minutes go by. Renjun is in awe of it, and figures that not all technology is bad. He keeps his calm, because although these experiences were knew for him, Renjun cannot act overly giddy or like he was immature. He sits as they approach the city, and his eyes light up as the skyline of Seoul fills his view. He had seen this in pictures, but to actually look upon it with his own eyes after a lifetime of natural landscape was unreal. 

Na Jaemin, on the other hand, finds it surreal to be on his way back home. It almost felt wrong. All this time, he had been complaining about the quietness of Jebaek, that when the sounds of the city begin filling his ears again, he was surprised to find it more irritating instead of comforting.

The skyline felt familiar to him, but a bit lacking in comparison to the mountains that loomed over Jebaek. Everything about what they were experiencing felt familiar to him, but nothing about it felt as comforting as he had hoped it would be. Jaemin mentally slaps himself. This was what he wanted. This was what he was supposed to crave: home. He shouldn’t be acting like this.

Renjun acts a lot calmer than Jaemin expected, but the taller man can see that the boy was excited just by the sparkle of his eyes. Especially when they stand on the busy morning streets outside of the train station they were just dropped off at, and Renjun has his head tilted up towards the sky looking at the skyscrapers in awe. And then at the surroundings. People everywhere. Dressed either like him and Jaemin in street fashion, or in professional business attire going to work in the morning. Every street was lined with shops. The high rises painted the city skyline. Everything was bustling, and just as loud as Jaemin had described to him before. It was a direct juxtaposition to Jebaek, and Renjun finds himself mentally lost but also curious. 

The first thing Jaemin does is take Renjun for breakfast at a cafe. It was a quaint one, with simple and modern design on the interior. There were marble tables and slick black steel chairs. Edison bulbs hung over everything, and green potted succulents dotted the cafe. Soft R&B music played from the ceiling speakers, and Renjun sees a digital cashier for the first time. It was cool decorations inside, and Renjun tried to hide his excitement at such a cliche place to be. 

Jaemin offers to order for the both of them, but Renjun insists he can do it himself. He reads the menu, and when the person who was going to take their order comes around, Renjun could tell that Jaemin was looking at him nervously and in anticipation, as if he was not sure if Renjun was going to be able to handle a place like Seoul, much less how to order at a cafe restaurant. 

But Renjun acts like any other person in the city. He calls for a cappuccino with a spinach and feta danish to go with it. He flashes a pretty smile at the waiter, and Jaemin notices how pretty that damn smile was once more. Their time there was sweet, and comfortable. Even amongst the loud ruckus of city life, Jaemin and Renjun end up finding conversation extremely easy to flow. To outsiders, the both of them just look like two friends going out for breakfast, but they both know it was more complicated than that. Way more complicated. Still, Jaemin ignores the complications and decide to let himself indulge in the glory of Renjun’s companionship anyways. 

After breakfast, Jaemin asks him if he wanted to go see a movie. He knew it was too early in the morning to go see a movie, but Jaemin felt this sense of urgency. He only had today with Renjun in this place. He only had today, and he felt as if he needed to show Renjun everything. There just wasn’t enough hours in the day to do all that he wanted to. 

So there they were, at nearly 9 in the morning, buying tickets and popcorn for an indie film. There was no one at the theatre, for most people go in the evening, but Jaemin doesn’t mind. It meant that they had the entire place to themselves. As they get seated, Renjun looks in awe of how large the cinema screens were, filling up the entire wall in pretty colors and images. Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. As they watched the movie, Renjun ends up not liking the popcorn that much, it being a little too greasy for his taste. But he tried it anyways before leaving it for Jaemin to eat. Renjun pays extra careful attention throughout the movie, but whispers to Jaemin the entire time, calling out what was going to happen before it happens. Even in a movie, Renjun could see through everything, and Jaemin enjoys the rawness in the fact. 

While a scene plays on the screen, Jaemin looks down to his lap at a sudden movement. Renjun was climbing two fingers in a walking formation across the space between them towards Jaemin’s hand that was resting on his own knee. Looking over towards Renjun, Jaemin gave him a curious smile. 

The raven hair boy gave a small grin, “In my books, they always do this at the movies.” Renjun said before linking his fingers with Jaemin’s own. The city-native lets him, not telling Renjun that people only do this when their intentions are _more_ than friendship. 

When the movie ends, they leave the theatre but still stroll along the busy streets of Seoul talking about the movie as if they were critics. And then that conversation would just trail off to another one. Renjun likes to spin as he walks, head looking up at the sky, as if he wanted to take in everything at once. Jaemin just strolls next to him with his hands in his pocket, body familiar with the layout of the city. It felt strange to be back here, to hear this much noise in the morning when in Jebaek, it was not even a fraction of this sound. He forgot how it smelled like car exhaust in the city. They walk around like this for a while, running in and out of little shops to see what they have and to show Renjun little knick knacks here and there. 

Ultimately, Jaemin pulls Renjun onto the opposite street until they reach a museum entrance. Paying the fee, Jaemin knew it would be well worth his money, for Renjun was going to love the sculptures inside. And to his delight, the smaller did. Renjun absolutely adored everything. Everything was interesting to him. The plagues near the art works, with information about the piece. He read that up and would tell Jaemin every time how he read about this in a book. Renjun found himself not wanting to leave, as he admires everything around him. _My god_ , Jaemin thinks, _I could stare at this smile forever_. And then he mentally slaps himself. He can’t. 

They do small activities like this throughout the day, keeping both of them busy. Jaemin still feels like he’s running out of time. He drags Renjun everywhere, as if he has to show him it all before he disappears. Gyeongbokgung palace. N Seoul Tower. Walking through myeongdong, and getting Renjun little street food snacks.

Huang Renjun enjoys it all immensely, but he can tell that Jaemin feels urgency. He could see it in the way Jaemin would not give a second of rest the moment they’d finish something. He could see it in the way Jaemin would constantly check his wrist watch the way he did every couple minutes back when he first arrived in Jebaek. 

It was 6 in the evening, and they had exhausted the main sights, and they were now on Banpo bridge, the lights from the side waterfall turns on. And Renjun admires the technology that allowed it to do that. Jaemin checks his wristwatch again and Renjun turns to the side and covers up the face of the watch. 

“You’re doing it again,” Renjun says as he leans against the side of the bridge. The sunset was coming, and he could see the wash of pink over the sky. 

“What,” Jaemin asks for clarification. 

“Checking the time like your life depends on it,” Renjun replies with a light laugh, “You got better about it back in Jebaek, for the most part. But I think this place…” Renjun waves his hands in gesture of the city, “makes you get back in the habit.” 

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair and looks over the bridge, “Everything moves so fast here. You can feel it, right? It’s almost as if I have to constantly check the time, or else…”

“Or else what?” Renjun asks, “Or else I disappear? Jaemin, I can tell you’ve been doing that all day. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here until we go back.” 

Jaemin looks at him and gives his friend a small smile. He shakes his head, still not understanding how Renjun could be who he was, could think how he did. 

Renjun steps forward, and brings his hand out to grab onto Jaemin’s wrist. In a quick motion, Renjun unclasps his watch and takes it off the man. He slides it into his own pocket for safekeeping and looks up at his friend, “Forget about the time for now. Let’s take it slow.” 

“Seoul isn’t a place for the slow, Renjun,” Jaemin humors lightly. 

Renjun shrugs, “And Jebaek isn’t a place for the fast-paced people like you, Jaemin.” 

Jaemin looks at him, and admits that Renjun made a valid point. He looks down at the ground and then grins when he looks back up at his friend, tilting his head slightly. Renjun finds himself wanting to be gazed like that forever. 

They begin walking along the bridge, slowly. Struck by the view, and Jaemin doesn’t think about anything else but being here with Renjun. He forces the thought of “what’s next” out of his head, and takes in the moment. Renjun’s small rants. His cute self in this outfit. His smile. 

The sun sets and Jaemin asks Renjun if he wanted to see his university. Renjun was down for anything, and they take a cab there until they stood at the entrance of it. The place was enormous, with multiple buildings made of glass with contemporary architecture. They walk the roads, and Jaemin found himself experiencing a little bit of stress. As if he was still in his classes, and had the pressure of performing. Renjun asks about every building, and their weird names. Jaemin explains that those names had million dollar net worths behind them. 

They ended up back at his dorm, and Jaemin fishes through his wallet for the keys. Turns out, he didn’t need to, for his roommate, Mark Lee was there to open the door. Upon opening it, Jaemin’s roommate had not been expecting to see his friend. The man with messy honey blonde hair whooped and pulled Jaemin into a hug. 

“I thought you weren’t coming back for fifty days,” Mark exclaimed. 

“I wasn’t supposed to,” Jaemin responds with a big smile and hugs his friend back.

And then Mark noticed Renjun, and his face broke out into a smirk, “And who is this pretty one?” 

Jaemin shoves him playfully and then leads Renjun inside, “This is Huang Renjun. He’s from Jebaek. Renjun, this is my roommate Mark Lee. He’s from...Canada.”

Renjun, charming as ever, greets Mark. And they don’t have a hard time talking to each other. Mark had used Jaemin’s bed as a storage facility while he was gone, and Jaemin didn’t appreciate that, but he doesn’t mind since he had a flat outside of the university also, courtesy of his parents. Renjun gets to hear stories of Jaemin throughout college, and it brought a laugh to his lips. And Mark gets to hear stories of all kinds of things, mostly about Jebaek, and the other finds it particularly interesting and relaxing, feeling a bit envious that Jaemin gets to stay in such a place. For once, Jaemin feels prideful about it. 

Ultimately, Mark offers the two of them, “Let’s go to the bar tonight. Come on. Everyone’s going to be there, and you can’t really let Renjun come to Seoul without showing him the nightlife.” 

Jaemin palms his nape, “I don’t kno-”

“I’d love to,” Renjun interrupts and then leans back on his arms. 

“Then that settles it,” Mark claps his hands and Jaemin figures it wouldn’t hurt. 

Renjun ends up getting ushered into one of Mark’s friends' rooms. The roommate insists that Renjun needs to change his outfit to go to the bar, and there was no better stylist than his friend who majored in fashion. So that’s how Renjun found himself abandoned in Kim Jungwoo’s room, where he befriends the overly excited man easily. In his room were an abundance of clothes strung around everywhere, and he says that he requested a single room this year because last year, his roommate could not _stand_ how his pieces were everywhere.

Jungwoo ends up dressing Renjun in clothes that were a little too tight than what he normally wore, but he doesn’t mind because when he looks in the mirror, he feels good. Ripped jeans that tore at tasteful places, revealing some skin on his legs. A waist chain was wrapped underneath a slightly cropped blouse-like shirt, with pretty sleeves and a large neckline that showed his sculpted collarbones. He would never wear something like this in Jebaek, but when in Rome, they say, do as the Romans do. 

Jaemin ends up changing into a fitted black shirt that shows off his arms a little _too_ well and a pair of jet black joggers that accentuate the strength within his legs. He didn’t even have to try much, and he looked gorgeous. 

Jaemin finds Renjun to look absolutely gorgeous, but something in him found it to be uncharacteristic. It was if this was another Renjun, one that lived here in Seoul all his life. Not the one he knew. Not the one he has grown to consider his good friend. This was a Renjun that he would have, if circumstances were different, hitted on at a bar and gone home with. Or one that he would have had a crush on at a university class. He swallows and tries to remember that Huang Renjun was his _friend_ . His _friend_. It felt all too normal and assimilated and Jaemin was not sure how to feel. It was like they had lived here all their lives, and this was just a night out together with Renjun. It felt like that alternate reality Renjun had been talking about earlier. He wonders if he really would have been happier in it. 

They arrived at the bar, and there were already plenty of people. Some Jaemin knew. Others he had only seen around campus a handful amount of times. They all acted as if they were best friends with Jaemin though, with him being quite a popular person on campus, and the brown haired man was beginning to get turned off by that behavior. He thinks back to the things Renjun had mentioned to him before. How it was hard to find genuine people in the city. He smiles at them anyways. 

They all welcome Renjun with open arms. Some of them with _too_ open arms, for it was immediately noticed that Huang Renjun was exceptionally gorgeous. Comments were thrown around everywhere, with some men and women alike asking if he was Jaemin’s partner. When the answer was no, they all seemed to take it as an invitation to incessantly flirt with Renjun. Jaemin could tell that the man didn’t think anything much of it, but Jaemin knew their intentions and it made him extra wary. 

The night, other than that, was fun to say the least. Drinks were constantly ordered to the table, and Jaemin had no problem downing them, with his alcohol tolerance being high. He downed highballs with ease. Renjun, however, took it easy, for he knew that he wasn’t used to these brightly colored drinks that masked hard liquors he had never tried before. Conversation was casual, but fun and there was a lot of laughing. The music was loud and in everyone’s eardrums. Although it was a hectic environment, Renjun adapts and does not find himself minding too much. 

At one point during the night, one of the men who had been flirting with Renjun all night, an exchange student named Lucas, slams his hand on the table to get everyone’s attention, “I have a game!” 

With everyone interested, Lucas continues, “If I can down three shots with no hands in under ten seconds, then I get to kiss Renjun.” 

Renjun’s lips part at the boldness and the whole group complains playfully. 

“That isn’t a game,” Jungwoo threw an empty cup at Lucas, “You just want to kiss Renjun. Get in line.” 

Renjun laughs at the comment.

But Lucas hadn’t been kidding, and asks Renjun himself, “So what do you think, Renjun? Are you down?” 

Renjun opens his mouth to speak, ready to turn down the offer, but he thinks. There’s no harm. It was just a kiss, and maybe the kiss might ease his urges to kiss someone _else_ for a little while. Besides, everyone was just having fun, and he surely wasn’t going to do anything like this back at home. Much to Jaemin’s surprise, Renjun ends up smiling and saying, “Sure.”

Suddenly, Mark piped up with a glass of gin in his hand, complaining, “At least make it a competition, Lucas. This is no fun. Come on, Jaemin, you try beating him to it.”

Jaemin looked up from his own glass of whiskey on ice that he’d been swirling in his hands and at the table, who all looked at him expectantly. His throat was dry from the alcohol, and he was barely feeling the effects kick in. Which meant that he knew very well how to control his mind. Jaemin looks at Lucas, who doesn’t like the idea of having to compete with Jaemin. And then he looks at Renjun next to him, who pursed his lips and just shrugged. 

“You think you could handle me kissing you?” Jaemin asks with a slight smirk, bringing the glass to his lips for a sip.

Renjun, at the jab, narrows his eyes and then whispers to Jaemin challengingly, “Now I almost want you to win, you arrogant prick.” 

“Will do,” Jaemin chuckles and then sits up in his seat, accepting the challenge. 

They order six shots, three for Jaemin and three for Lucas. Right in front of them, it was lined up. Both of them get right in front of it, and before they started, Lucas mumbled about how of course they chose the best drinker to compete with him. He asked for a change of partner at the last moment, but their group had already been satisfied with Jaemin. Two people pulled out their timers to time both of the men and Renjun sat to the side, watching amused as two people compete for a meaningless kiss. Was this what city people were like? Lucas and Jaemin both put their hands behind their backs and once the timer started, it was clear who had the advantage. 

Jaemin downed the shots as if he had been practicing for this his whole life. Lucas trailed behind considerable, and it caused laughter to erupt. Jaemin finishes the second one. And reaches down for the third one before letting it slide down his throat easily and he hollers for himself. When he’s asked how he did it so fast, Jaemin just responds with ‘ _high school, man.’_

If Renjun didn’t have a bit of alcohol in him to loosen himself up, then he’d be panicking right now. But alas, the small drinks he had loosened him up a little and he kept telling himself in his head _it’s just a meaningless kiss. It’s just a meaningless kiss. It’s just a meaningless kiss. It’s all for a challange. It’s all for a challenge. Calm down, Renjun. Calm down._

But as Jaemin approaches, fast and determined, Renjun could not keep calm. His heart was pounding like crazy and Jaemin made his way over and with one hand cupping Renjun’s face and the other pulling him by the waist, Na Jaemin leaned down and brought their lips together. People cheered around them, but Renjun was shell shocked. He knew it was coming, but there was nothing he could have ever done to prepare for it. Jaemin felt himself wanting to go crazy the moment he kissed Renjun. It was as if he wanted to do this all along and was finally able to. _No_ , he tells himself, _you didn’t want to do this all along. Fuck off_ . He tells himself this, but it didn’t explain why kissing Renjun felt as good as it did. As _satisfying_ as it did. It didn’t explain why he felt depraved up until this moment. His arms pulled Renjun closer and his lips urged the smaller to reciprocate. His arms around Renjun's waist felt so right, like he was scooping up the man into him. His lips on Renjun's own soft ones felt even _more_ right, as if it was the remedy to everything he had ever found wrong in the world. 

Renjun’s body goes on autopilot, as if his mind was no longer working, and he reaches up to wrap his arms around Jaemin’s neck, melding their bodies together. He meets Jaemin’s lips with his own, and fuck, he felt his body wanting to collapse upon itself at the touch. After weeks and weeks of what felt like a collection of small moments, where Jaemin lingered his fingers on his waist a little too long or they spoke some words a little too suggestively to each other, it felt like this was a sweet release. A sweet release as the other moves against him, dragging him deeper into this ecstasy. Renjun loses his will to think, but he still knows that this is _not_ good for his mental health. 

“Fuck,” Jaemin cursed into his mouth and he couldn’t make himself pull away. 

Renjun does it for him though, and he gently pushes his friend away until they both stood at a distance, chest breathing a little heavier than usual. Renjun’s lips were pink and slicked with saliva, and it took everything in his being to not go for it again. Jaemin’s hair was ruled up, but it made him look even better. Renjun cursed in his head. 

The group they came with was still cheering, but calms the both of them down, as the nightly activities continue. Lucas was a little disappointed, but it was nothing that he wasn’t over within a couple of minutes. Renjun on the other hand, found himself zoned out of the conversations. The only thing that plagued his mind was that _kiss._ That fucking kiss, he thought. It meant nothing, and was just for a challenge, he knew that. But he couldn’t help but remember how it felt. How he tasted. His hands. His lips. His tongue. _Fuck_ , he was screwed. 

He was like that for a while, a bit zoned out. It was around 2 A.M. that Renjun nudged Jaemin and said he wanted to leave. It was getting too loud. Jaemin had no problem with that and they bid their farewells to everyone. Renjun told everyone it had been nice to meet them, and they headed towards the exit. 

It was late, and rather than taking a taxi to wherever it was they were going to sleep tonight, Jaemin and Renjun decide to walk. Slowly, in the breezy spring air. It was still loud at 2 A.M. in Seoul, but much less busy than in the day. They could still hear cars whirring past and people here and there, but other than that, it was considerable way less busy than just a couple hours earlier. 

They kept taking turns and twists until they ended up on a street that not many cars frequented. It was a residential street, so not many people had reason to drive through there. 

Jaemin and Renjun walk in the middle of the road, and watched the traffic lights blink at their arrivals on foot. They laughed and had quiet conversations. At some point, Renjun lays down in the middle of the road and beckons Jaemin to join him. 

Jaemin laughs, “Renjun, you know this isn’t Jebaek. We can’t just lay in the middle of the road.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, “Says who?”

Jaemin retorted, “Says the police.”

“ _If_ the police sees us,” Renjun wagged his fingers, “Fuck the police.”

Grinning, Jaemin finally gives in and takes the spot next to Renjun, staring up at the sky. The asphalt was hot underneath his skin, from taking in heat throughout the day. It was rough and would have been uncomfortable if only Renjun wasn’t beside him. They don’t talk about the kiss. There was no need. It was as if they talked about the kiss, then it would make its impact a little more real. And Renjun wasn't ready for that conversation. He tries to shove it in the back of his mind as he lays there, peering into the night sky.

“There’s no stars here.” He notices. 

Jaemin chuckles, “The city lights are our stars.”

"There's no mountains either," He adds.

And Jaemin pauses, "Our mountains and forests are the concrete skyscrapers."

“That’s…” Renjun starts, “kind of sad.” 

Jaemin thinks of the night sky in Jebaek. The stars. The brilliant stars that speckled the sky in gorgeous patterns and arrays of dots. He agrees, “A little.”

A bit of silence, and it was a peaceful one. Relatively. They occasionally heard the sound of cars, honking, and maybe sirens. 

“So, how do you like it?” Jaemin asks the question he’d been wanting to ask all day, “Seoul? The city?” 

Renjun smiled. He knew Jaemin had been curious, and throughout the day, Renjun had also been thinking, “It’s not as bad as I thought. It’s exciting...and full of strange technology that I can barely comprehend exists. Everything is so modern, and stylish. There’s so many people, and it’s so busy. I think it’s exciting…” 

Jaemin nodded, glad that Renjun wasn’t closed minded about the experience, “Do you feel…” He paused, “less doubtful?” 

Renjun beamed and felt a bit of relief seep from himself, “I do. I’m glad you took me. Because I think coming here helped me realize that at the end of the day, nothing feels like home. This place is...interesting, but I don’t think I can go without the stars, without the mountains, without the quiet.”

Jaemin was about to speak, but Renjun piped up again, “I also realized something else.” He turned his head to look at Na Jaemin, “It’s not about the place. It’s about the person. If I came here alone today, I think I would have been overwhelmed. But since you were here,” He hesitated, “Everything felt nice. I felt…normal. As if I really was that alternate version of myself who was born here my whole life, just going out with his friend to a cafe, to the movies, and everything else we did today.”

Renjun’s eyes bore into his own, as if waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t even asked. 

Jaemin grinned while turning his gaze back up to the starless sky, “Maybe we can do it again one day, after I come back.”

“You mean...I visit you?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin nods, “Yeah.” 

Huang Renjun then began lightly laughing, his voice lace with a hint of bittersweetness, “I don’t think I can do that, Nana.” 

Jaemin hummed, “Why not?” 

Renjun should have held his tongue and not said anything, but he couldn’t help himself but leave a cryptic remark. He hesitated before saying softly into the night, “I want to forget about you when you leave.” 

Jaemin’s eyebrows pulled together. He felt as if he understood the implication of Renjun's words, “What happened to not getting attached, Jun?”

“I ask myself that too,” The ironic laughter weaved with sadness rang from Renjun’s lips, “I guess we were best friends when we were little for a reason. Old habits die hard, Jaemin.” 

Na Jaemin didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t reveal to the smaller that he thinks he was getting a little too close for comfort also. That he thinks he let himself look into Renjun’s eyes a little too long. Maybe that was where life’s secrets lie. In those _fucking beautiful brown eyes_ , Jaemin thought. 

They lay there in the quiet for a bit, hearing the cars sound from the other busier streets as they lay on this one. 

At some point, however, they heard the sound of a car coming from a distance and made themselves sit up to avoid being ran over. As a white Mazda pulls through the street, the two men scutter off the side of the road. Since they already gotten up, the two decided that it was about time to get some sleep anyways, and Jaemin tells Renjun that his personal flat was a short taxi ride away. 

They start walking towards one of the main streets to catch a cab, but as they were walking side by side in the crisp night air of 3:07 A.M. Seoul, Jaemin couldn’t help but recall a comment from earlier, now finally knowing how to reply to Renjun, “You know what you said earlier? About it not being the place that made your experience here enjoyable, but rather the person?”

Renjun hums in an acknowledgement that he remembered, “Yes?” 

Jaemin looks off in the direction of the high rises, walking slow, “It’s like that in Jebaek for me too, you know. The places we go to are beautiful on their own, sure. But I don’t know Renjun, with you, they’re....”

Renjun looks over at his friend as they walk, eyes ploring for what he was about to say. When Jaemin takes a bit too long to finish, Renjun urges him softly, “They’re what?” 

Jaemin still thought of the right word to use and took a minute, but when he did, it was the most accurate he would describe it, “Special.”

Renjun let out an airy laugh, “Special?” 

“Yeah, special,” Jaemin paused, not sure what to say, “I think it’s because you make it special.”

Renjun tries to hide his grin, but he ends up giggling a little. 

“What?” Jaemin asks, nudging the other with his elbow. 

Renjun shakes his head, “City boys can’t express their feelings to save their lives. It’s a bit endearing, but I’ll give you credit for trying.”

“Feelings?” Jaemin asked, having an eyebrow raised at the word. 

“Yeah,” Renjun shrugged his shoulders, fumbling for the right explanation, “You know, as a…” He mumbles a little bit.

Jaemin guesses and finishes for him, “friend?”

Renjun gives a half smile and nods, “yeah, that.” 

The word had came out bitterly on Jaemin’s tongue, as if he had made the wrong choice. 

And to Renjun, the word sounded bitter in his ears, as if he wanted to hear something else. 

  
  


Jaemin’s flat was not particularly fancy, but it was a far cry from ugly. It was a nice loft on the 19th floor of a high rise. Although he stayed in his dorm during the school year for convenience purposes, his parents, who made a more than decent living for themselves through daytrading since moving to Seoul so long ago, had bought him this flat when he graduated high school as a reward for getting into a prestigious university. It was a shame that he didn’t use it often, and it showed. The walls were white and bare of photos or any life. The kitchen lacked any food besides the occasional package of ramen or instant cuisine. 

Upon entering, neither bothered to turn on the lights, for it would be a pain on their eyes anyways, which had been adjusted to darkness for a while. Renjun was impressed by Jaemin’s place in terms of appearance. The views of the city below them was stunning and in his bedroom, the king sized bed was situated right next to the floor to ceiling windows, so they were right up and close to the sounds of the city below. 

Renjun was tired and the moment he took a shower and changed into some of Jaemin’s clothes, he collapsed on the bed. Hot water showers were not something he was used to, being from Jebaek where the only way to have a hot bath was to go to the natural hot springs, but those were a distance away. Feeling the droplets trickle down his arms as he stood in the shower was definitely an experience. 

He crashed onto Jaemin’s bed while his friend showered, and he didn’t even care about the noisiness of the city below. If he were being honest, he did not know what Jaemin was on about, when he said he needed a certain noise environment to sleep. It personally didn’t matter to Renjun. Although the bed was not his own, he snuggled under the duvet and had no problem letting his body sink into the mattress. He has had a wonderful day. An experience he had only read about. 

He discovered that he had been right. So many people here were fast-paced. Caught up on the notion of time, so much that they move where their minds do not. With no consciousness in their actions. So many people here were money oriented, with a plethora of designer clothes on their bodies that was meant solely to flex. 

But at the same time, he discovered that he had also been wrong. Many people here were also _passionate_. About their work, or about their art that they sell to museums, or about their aesthetics. Many places here were stunning, with each place designed tastefully by people who enjoy designing or architecture for a living. The people here were also open, with no worries over what was taboo and what wasn’t. 

Renjun thinks that the biggest takeaway was that there will be positives and negatives of every place, and that’s necessary to understand. 

Sometime along thinking about his day, Renjun finds himself falling sleep. 

When Na Jaemin gets out of the shower, he sits on his bed next to Renjun and looks at the boy. His hair fell in a fringe over his eyes as he slept, but Jaemin could still see his soft lashes. Lips pink and pretty. Light breathing and soft features underneath the city lights. In his clothes and in his bed, Jaemin finds that Renjun assimilated here so well. 

He lays down underneath the comforter with his head resting on an arm. His bed no longer felt familiar, and he was becoming frustrated. Why was nothing feeling the same? Why was nothing giving him the comfort that he thought it would when he came back. Jebaek was too hot, and Seoul was too cold: bit figuratively and literally. It as if he was stuck in the middle of two worlds, wanting to transition from one to the other, but not officially in either. 

But Renjun, Jaemin thinks, Renjun had shown him today that he would be able to thrive anywhere. In the city, he drank cappuccinos at cafes as if he frequented it every day. He walked around myeongdong eating streetfood and laughed with him as if they did this often. They went to a bar as if they had lived here their whole lives and were just going out on a weekend like usual. It felt like a _wrong_ sense of normal. 

Maybe it wasn’t the city that Renjun was used to, Jaemin thinks. Maybe it was him that Renjun was used to. 

When they walked past a reflection, Jaemin became genuinely shocked each time how normal they looked. Renjun in street wear that accentuated his small size. Jaemin in his normal attire. They looked as if they had always been like this. 

For some reason, it made Jaemin feel uncomfortable. 

Renjun as he saw him today was beautiful as ever. But, there was something about Renjun in Jebaek, in his real environment, that was even more stunning. There was something about Renjun when his hair was matted to his forehead after a day in the lake or stream. There was something about Renjun when he sits in front of the moonlit corn fields and the rays shine in his eyes. There was something about their quiet little moments in his house or on a branch of a large tree. It felt _right_. It felt like Renjun. The one that he knew. 

Renjun didn’t belong here, Jaemin thought suddenly. 

And as much as he did not like thinking it, Na Jaemin was beginning to think, maybe he, himself, didn’t either. 

Maybe he belonged in a small village hours away from Seoul, with a raven haired boy who looks at the clouds as if they told a story, who makes the mountains bend to his will, whose eyes are filled with the stars. Maybe he belonged in a place where he can waste away the afternoons floating on top of a river, finding abandoned trains to watch the sunset from, or jump off of waterfall quarries at. 

_Fuck_ , Jaemin then thought to himself. He was thinking bullshit. He was not acting like himself. He was here, back in his city. Back in his _home_. He had been dreaming about being home, being in a bed he can sleep at, hearing sounds he can rest to, so why was he having doubts of his own now that he is back for a day. He should be happy. He pushes any thoughts he found ridiculous out of his head and tries to enjoy this bed before they go back to Jebaek.

So, Na Jaemin closes his eyes to go to sleep, hoping that it comes quick, hoping that since he was back home, he'd be able to. Hoping that his body would accept Seoul again the way it used to. But, as he lays there and hears the faint ticking of a wall clock in his loft, he realizes a painful truth. 

He can’t. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you guys tell i like writing dialogue afasdafd
> 
> anyways, i hope you guys are liking the story ! i like to build things very slowly to a climax asdfasdf  
> thank you for all the love! i appreciate everything and read everything, and ily guys


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 37.7k word chapter in case you're busy !  
> hope it's not overkill adsfasdf 
> 
> Song: Studio Ghibli summer nights collection https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7voSN82FGF0&t=6053s
> 
> also: short instance of recreational drug use. lewd(?) language, but nothing happens dw.

  
  


Something changes in Na Jaemin when they get back to Jebaek the afternoon after. That second morning in Seoul, Jaemin and Renjun had found the time to fit in a visit to a breakfast cafe where Renjun tried a cheese filled omelette for the first time, stuffed with melted cheddar, swiss, and sauteed onions and mushrooms. Its fragrance enhanced everything and the taste was as grandiose as it looks. Renjun had let out a small little moan at the taste, and Jaemin had paused with his fork mid air and looked up at his friend, wondering if he had just heard right. He looks around the cafe to see if anyone else heard and then chuckled to himself. 

After breakfast, they now sit at the train station, waiting for their departure time. Huang Renjun was itching to get back home. He panicked, knowing that there was no filtered drinking water for the village today, and that he had plenty of tasks to tend to around Jebaek. Besides, although the journey that Seoul took him on had been wonderful, he was in need of fresh mountain air and the quietness that Jebaek had to offer. It was home.

Na Jaemin, on the other hand, tried to make himself miss Seoul as they leave the train station, sitting on leather bullet train seats. He tries to make himself yearn to go back to that apartment, to the city, to the hecticness of the lifestyle. So it frustrates him greatly when he can’t. And when he, insteads, finds himself looking forward to being back in Jebaek. 

That leads back to the growing fact that is becoming so evident in Jaemin: something had _changed_ when he came back to Jebaek that afternoon. It was not obvious, but was all in the details. One just had to look. Unintentionally, Jaemin finds himself approaching Jebaek with more tender care than before. He speaks of it fondly if someone asks about his experience thus far. And he thinks to himself that the sky looked prettier than usual, even if it looked the same as it did every day. He thinks to himself that the trees look greener even if it looked no different than yesterday. Maybe it was because being in the city again after so long and not being used to it made him miss Jebaek. Or maybe it was because Huang Renjun was also in his line of sight. 

Renjun, who looked more radiant by the day. Renjun, whose cheeks were kissed with a natural pink, whose eyes melted like moonlight, whose voice felt like honey to his ears. Whose lips… Jaemin paused in his thoughts. _Fuck, those lips_. He had to force himself not to think about the way he had kissed Renjun back at the bar in Seoul, for if he let himself indulge in the thought longer than he needed to, then his mind and dare say, body, would venture into dangerous waters. 

It was the 25th day, and he officially approached the halfway mark. And if this had been him 25 days ago, Jaemin would be estactic. However, him as he was now, he was not sure how to feel. He purposely stops himself from checking his wristwatch, which Renjun had given back to him, for he was scared that if he looks down at it to check the time, then two things would happen.

One, he loses precious seconds that he could have been spending with Renjun, his friend, instead. Two, it would make the fastly passing time feel all the more real and urgent. He can practically hear the sand of the hourglass he has pictured in his head. It was falling quickly, and their friendship was at the bottom of the glass, destined to drown with every day that passes and the day he leaves gets closer and closer. 

“Healing,” Jaemin says as they sat across from each other in the village square, on the ledge of the fountain, “That’s my Day 25 topic.”

Renjun eyes go wide at the number, and he stops in the middle of chewing a dessert he picked up from Mrs. Choi down the road, “You’re already halfway done?”

In his head, Renjun probably knew this, but he constantly makes himself forget as if it was going to be false news when he wakes up in the morning. 

“I am,” Jaemin responds with what looked to be a bittersweet smile; however, if it came across to Renjun, then the boy didn’t let it show. 

The raven haired man nods and looks up at a small flock of three crows flying above, “You must feel excited.”

Na Jaemin purses his lips and glances off to the side, “Right.” 

“Well,” Renjun finally says letting out a breath and pulling himself off the ledge of the fountain, “We can’t waste your precious time sitting here, le-”

“It’s not a waste, Renjun,” Jaemin interrupts with a firm tone, also standing up off the ledge. He disliked the way Renjun antagonized him like this, put up a wall between them every time the topic of departure appears. 

Renjun looks at his friend and pauses, not saying anything. 

Jaemin steps a bit closer, looking down at the pretty man with the raven dark hair and light pink lips. He pushes out the intrusive thought that he had kissed those lips just last night, “Call your time with me a waste one more time and I’ll-”

“And you’ll what, Jaemin?” Renjun asked, trying not to be in awe of the way the golden hour sunlight hits the irises of Jaemin’s brown eyes, “You’ll stay?” 

Jaemin stops. 

How could he say that he would. He couldn't. He won't.

“That’s right,” Renjun affirms, “You won’t do anything. So let’s get started. Healing, right?” 

Running a hand through his brown hair, Jaemin lets out a frustrated sigh and just settles on dropping the topic, “Right.” 

Renjun bit the inside of his cheek, for he could feel the irritation in Jaemin’s voice, but he pushes the concern away, “Come on, I’ll take you to the apothecary.” 

He knows that there was suddenly an air of some unspoken negative tension between them, but Renjun finds himself reaching a hand out to Jaemin’s own either way, like he usually did when he wanted to drag the other to wherever it was they were going. He always gently takes Jaemin by the hand when they do this, so he just reaches out instinctively.

However, this time, Na Jaemin tucks his hand away in his pocket, and walks past the smaller without sparing Renjun a glance, only offering the dry words from his mouth, “I know where it is. Keep your distance. It’s what you want, right?” 

Jaemin didn’t know why it irritated him so much. His jaw was tightly held together as he walks in the direction of the apothecary shop, located not too far from his house which was why he was familiar with the location. It felt as if they had reached an asymptote. As if they couldn’t get closer because Renjun had a wall up between them. It was like they had gotten so close to one another, but finally hit the limit on how close they could get. Because of that _damn_ barrier.

Jaemin was not stupid. He knew why that barrier existed. Renjun was afraid of getting too attached, and he had explicitly stated it several times. However, the more and more they grow closer, the less and less Jaemin could stand that thin film between them, of Renjun keeping him at an arm’s distance. So what if he left. So what if he had to go back to the city. Jaemin found it even worse that Renjun wants to give half effort just because he was scared of finality. 

Renjun winces at the action of Jaemin brushing him off so coldly and he bites his lip as he watches Jaemin’s back walk past him. _Keep your distance. It’s what you want, right?_ No, he wanted to scream at Jaemin. It wasn’t what he wanted. But he thinks about it.

It’s what he needed. He tries to make himself grateful to Jaemin for his sudden coldness, claiming it will help him later on when Jaemin leaves, but Renjun couldn’t help but want to pull into himself a little. His feet began following Jaemin, and the weird air between them was unbearable. They haven’t had an awkward moment like this ever, not even back when they first reunited. At least then, it was cruel banter with no hint of friendship. Now, it was just empty air full of unspoken words. 

They end up in the apothecary shop, a small two story home designed in the traditional style. The inside was kept dark, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering in through wooden blinds on the windows. It was kept dark so that the sunlight would not damage the herbs or medicine. Inside, all along the dark wooden shelves were jars upon jars of different herbs, oils, and natural objects with medicinal properties. An old man, the shopkeeper, sat in the front on a chair, napping with a book on his face. 

Renjun decides not to bother him, and begins lecturing Jaemin on the view of medicine within Jebaek. 

Jaemin doesn’t say much throughout the lesson, but rather writes down notes the entire time, focusing solely and intently on the thesis. And when he wasn’t, he was looking off to the different herbs and oils on the shelves, spinning his pen in his hands. Renjun bites his lips.

Jaemin wasn’t doing 'that thing' anymore. That thing where Jaemin would stare at him while he talked, as if he was the most interesting person, as if he was truly listening to everything Renjun was saying. Renjun had complained about it so many times, always getting a smirking grin from the other who would do it even more intensely. Now, he had nothing to complain about, for Jaemin wasn’t looking at him. Hell, he was barely speaking to him. When he would, it would be to expand on some statement, or provide some sort of statistic. Renjun just obliged and told him, voice getting less and less lively as they continued the lecture. It was a shell of how they usually were. 

After they finished, both men stepped outside and Jaemin placed his hands in his pocket and took a breath of fresh air. The smell inside of the apothecary shop was full of strong spices and herbs that it stuck to his clothes a little. Renjun followed him out, lips flat in a line as he eyes the other warily. 

“What happens when someone needs more advanced treatment?” Jaemin asks, turning his head to the side to look at Renjun for what seemed to be the first time in a while. Still, it lacked the warmth it usually had.

“Advanced?” Renjun needed Jaemin to expand further. 

“Come on, Renjun,” Jaemin said, voice impatient and seemingly irritable,” Don’t be so daft. You know what I mean. Surgery? MRIs? Dangerous diseases?”

“I’m not fucki-” Renjun narrowed his eyes and then pushed out a breath of air, “You know what, forget it. Whatever." And he proceeds to answer Jaemin albeit in an irritated tone, "If someone needs surgery or treatment, then we take them to the closest city with a hospital.” He says plainly, upset but trying to play it off easy. 

“Yeah, and they’ll probably die on the hours-long ride there,” Jaemin scoffs and shakes his head, “You have to depend on the city and modern medicine to help with something as simple as influenza. You know what that says about each place, right?” 

Renjun stayed silent, his teeth biting down on his tongue and trying not to led it bleed. He finally came up with a worthy retort, “What even is your point? That we depend on you guys for advanced medicine? Let me remind you something, Na. You people in the city depend on villages like _us_ for your organic crops.”

Jaemin laughs, “We can get that anywhere, Renjun. For every tiny village like Jebaek that could provide us with some shipment of crops, there are 10 more like it scattered everywhere. But take the closest city from Jebaek out of existence, and suddenly, there’s no doctors, no surgeons. They're _not_ the same.”

Renjun was quiet as Jaemin continued, “Do you not understand, Jun?” 

“Don’t fucking call me that while you’re dissing the place I live, the place I _built_ ,” Renjun seethed. 

Jaemin pretends he didn’t hear, “Do you not understand that Jebaek could be replaced with a damn house plant, and the world would never notice the difference?” 

Silence. And then anger. And a little bit after that, hurt.That fucking hurt. Renjun felt himself wanting to take a step back in shock, but he stood firm on the ground, even though it was clear that his legs wanted to shake. He looked at his friend with pained, but angry eyes. The sentence Jaemin just spewed out hit him like a thousand knives, and reaffirmed all the reasons why he was as defensive about Jebaek as he was. 

When Renjun speaks again, it carried the hurt that could be heard even with the least attuned ears, “Would you?” _Would you notice the difference_?

That question seemed to catch Jaemin off guard and bring him back onto a level that Renjun could reach out and grab. He could see it in the shift of Jaemin’s demeanor. From sturdy and on the offense position, to a bit shocked and hit with the impact of his own words. Jaemin looks at Renjun, and sees the effects of his words. The strong brown eyes of Huang Renjun, closed off to him and lacking the genuinity that it usually had. The body language rigid and small, as if hurt immensely. And the sight causes Jaemin’s chest to want to collapse. _Fuck_ , he tells himself. 

Jaemin opens his mouth to speak, “I-”

Before he could let out a second word, Renjun reads through him and snaps out, “If you say you wouldn’t notice, then you’re fucking lying, Jaemin. Don’t you dare say it. Don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t notice, because then I’d _know_ for sure you’re a liar.”

Jaemin found himself at a loss for words and he looks off to the side. He had been so caught up in his anger that he said things he never would have otherwise. And now he could see the effects of it as he listens to Renjun's hurt voice, “Fuck.” He took a breath, “I went too far, didn’t I?” 

He turned to meet Renjun’s eyes, which softened a bit at Jaemin’s realization. And suddenly, Jaemin could see the hurt brimming in his friend’s pretty eyes, and all he wanted to do was go over and make it go away. But he doesn’t. He stays rooted in his spot. 

Renjun's voice speaks softly now and there’s a hint of pleading in his tone, “Jaemin...why are you being like this.” 

Jaemin felt his breath hitch in his throat and he swallows the lump, “I’m not being like anything. I’m sorry for what I said, okay? Let’s just forget this and move on to whatever you have planned next.” He looks away as he says the last sentence, and there they were, back again to Jaemin not looking at Renjun and Renjun forcing himself to feel thankful for the emotional distance between them, even when his entire soul was hating this. 

Renjun stares at Jaemin almost incredulously, but he pinches himself and forces his mind to forget the heavy words that had just been exchanged, as if they were nothing. He sighs and mumbles, “In Jebaek, from the old times until now, we’ve-” Renjun stops and speaks to Jaemin with an exhausted voice, “Jaemin, are you writing this down? Open your notebook,” He waits for the other to do so and then he continues, “Anyways, we’ve practiced acupuncture for healing aches and pains.” 

Jaemin mutters while writing it down, “The thing where needles are inserted into your skin?”

“Yeah,” Renjun says curtly, “It’s traditional Chinese medicine, but we do it in Jebaek because we have a large Sino influence here in this particular village. My parents are actually the ones who do the acupuncture for anyone who needs it. I grew up watching them do it.”

Jaemin hums in acknowledgement as he jots down the notes. 

“So,” Renjun says hesitantly, “We can just go over to their place and they can show you.” 

Jaemin doesn’t look up from his notebook, but he asks without any real tone, “You’re going to put needles in my skin?”

Renjun shrugs, “Not me. My parents. I’m supposed to keep my distance, remember?”

At that comment, Jaemin looks up from his notebook and through the fringe of his own hair. The gaze makes Renjun’s breath catch in his throat. Jaemin had a blank look as he stares at Renjun for a hot minute and then he closes the notebook and begins walking, remembering the way to Renjun’s parents’ place, “Let’s go.” 

Renjun once more is taken aback by the behavior, but he convinces himself that this is a _good_ thing. That he should be happy that Jaemin was making this easier on him. He catches up to the taller and they walk there silently together. 

When they arrived inside of Renjun’s parents’ home, the smaller had called out around the house, searching here and there. To no avail, and no response. He knew that they could be out of the house for a variety of reasons, but he still groans. 

He turns to Jaemin and taps his foot, “They’re not home. But I know how to do it, so I can still show you if you’re still interested.”

Jaemin pauses, and thinks about it. He purses his lips and then gives a small nod, “For the thesis.” 

They end up in the back hallway, where his parents did all of their acupuncture sessions. There were four rooms lined back to back in the hallways, and each of them were set up like a massage parlour almost. With raised flat mattress where someone could lay on their stomach. Next to each one was a raised chair for the acupuncturist to do the work. And there was a small table in every room with all the necessary equipment. Needles, sharpened knives for shaving off any dead skin on the back, towels, a needle disposal. There was a dim lantern at all times in each room for the ambiance. 

Renjun guides his old friend inside and shut the door behind them. Although there was the slightly hostile tension already between them, as Renjun tells Jaemin to take off his shirt, another type of tension was brewing slowly. So now there were two types of tensions that filled the room, neither one of which Renjun particularly wanted.

Jaemin looked at him for a moment at the sudden bold request, but then realized why Renjun was asking. And he reaches down to pull at the hem of his shirt and in a quick motion, takes it off and tosses it onto a chair nearby. 

Now, Jaemin stands there lacking a shirt, body illuminated by the dim orange light of the flickering lantern. Smooth muscles outlined throughout his body, and Renjun thinks he cannot get sick of the sight. Everything was cut and clean. His pectoral muscles. The abs running down his torso. The v-line at his hip, trailing down to a point in Jaemin’s pants. Jaemin knows Renjun was staring, and a small sense of desire burns at the pit of his stomach but Jaemin pushes it away. 

Throat dry, Renjun lets out a cracked, “Lay down.” 

Jaemin does so, laying down until his chin was resting on his hands underneath him and his stomach was against the cold mattress. He waited as Renjun makes his way over and pulls the high chair very close until his knee was pressing slightly against the side of Jaemin’s torso. He reaches over for the box of pin needles and sets it in his lap. He takes one out and runs one hand over the man’s toned back, trying to remember all of the neurohormonal pathways he watched his parents insert into all those years he lived here and helped them out. 

Jaemin clenches his fist in an attempt not to shiver as Renjun glides a pretty hand down his back. 

Finally, Renjun leans down and gently pierces the first needle through Jaemin’s skin. It is so thin that it does not draw blood. Acupuncture was not meant to draw blood, but rather, help send signals to the brain that releases b-endorphins, triggering a positive feeling in the body. It did not hurt either, although it sounds like it should.

So he just lays there, as Renjun continues the task. Renjun's fingers work slowly and deliberately. Jaemin finds it hard to not concentrate on the way Renjun’s fingers on his back feels when he’s gliding across it, trying to find where else to place the needles. He curses under his breath, but Renjun didn’t seem to hear it. 

Acupuncture needles only need to be left in anywhere between five to thirty minutes, depending on what kind of treatment the person is wanting. So after Renjun finished putting a little over twenty small needles throughout Jaemin’s back, almost creating a faux double spine, he hums a song under his breath while they wait.

Renjun without thinking much on it runs a finger gently between the work, threading carefully as he grazes his friend’s toned back. Jaemin could speak up about it, could warn Renjun off, but he finds himself silent and unmoving. After about five minutes, Renjun removes the needles slowly. It’s so thin that it leaves no trace. He sets the needles back in the small box on his lap, and then places it on the table beside him. 

“Does it work?” Renjun inquires gently as he sits back, having removed over 20 needles throughout Jaemin’s back. 

Jaemin turns his head over, still resting on his chin, and looks at his friend. He speaks, voice still blank, “I’m not sure what I was supposed to feel.”

Renjun shrugs, “More relaxed. Like your pains and aches are going away.”

“I can’t really be relaxed when your hands are touching me like that, Renjun,” Jaemin spoke, voice unwavering. His voice served as some sort of a warning, and Renjun suddenly felt that uneasy air between them again. 

Renjun asked quietly, “Like what?” 

Jaemin, finished with the session, pulls himself to a sitting position until his legs were on either side of Renjun’s thighs, and his naked torso face head on with his friend, who sat still on the chair. With a blank expression, but darkness in his eyes, Jaemin reaches out to grab onto Renjun wrist gently and guide the smaller’s hand until it rested on Jaemin’s chest. Slowly, Jaemin gently pulled the hand so that it dragged down through his toned, muscular torso, “Like this.” 

Renjun’s breath hitched and his eyes flickered back and forth between Jaemin’s rude, blank but handsome face and the abs that his fingers were gently trailing down. 

Jaemin then spoke with so much authority that it made Renjun flinch, “So since you’re so adamant that you distance yourself from me, you better be careful, Huang.” 

And then he let go of Renjun’s hands as if he was tossing it away, and out of at-the-moment panic, Renjun pulled his hand back quick and grabbed onto the equipment table next to him while quickly standing up off the chair. 

Just as he does that, Renjun let out a yelp and a small cry as he tore his hand away from the table and clutched at it in pain. He looked over to the equipment table that he had grabbed onto in a moment of recoil, jaw clenched at the stinging pain, and notices that while aggressively grabbing the table, he had swung his hand against one of the sharpened knives used to shave off dead skin and now, a long cut ran across his palm, oozing a bit of blood. He looks back and forth from his hand to the knife, which also had some metallic red on it. 

Renjun cursed and held his injured hand with the non-injured one. 

Jaemin had noticed what happened immediately from the way Renjun had yelped and grabbed his hand, and he stands up immediately, a look of concern flooded over his face. He didn’t give a damn at that moment what uneasy tension had brewed between them. All he felt was concern. 

Jaemin reaches out for Renjun’s hand, but the smaller pulls himself away, taking a step back and holding his hand to himself, “No. Don’t touch me.” Even now, Renjun couldn’t help but feel bitter even after trying to convince himself he should feel grateful, “I can do it myself.”

Na Jaemin backs off for a second, but stares at Renjun incredulously before completely ignoring the smaller and reaching out to grab a hold of Renjun’s slender wrist, pulling him in close and quickly with a lot of strength and switch their positions so that Renjun sits on the edge of the mattress and Jaemin is the one standing. 

Without another word, Jaemin goes and rummages through the cabinets that lined the wall, searching for any disinfectant and bandage that he could. It was an acupuncture place, Jaemin thought to himself, they _have_ to have some type of disinfectant and bandage. 

He ultimately finds it, and he could feel Renjun’s eyes watching him as he goes through the cabinets looking. 

Na Jaemin walked over and then reached a strong, large hand out, “Give me your hand.” 

Hesitantly, Renjun does so, and Jaemin takes a hold of it, eyes focused only on the gash situated right on the boy’s palm. Taking the disinfectant, Jaemin begins rubbing it over Renjun’s wound. The stinging qualities of the liquid makes him flinch a little as it seeps into his skin. 

Meanwhile, Jaemin mumbles under his breath as he begins wrapping bandage, “You have to fucking be careful, Jun.” 

“Don’t call me that” Renjun whispers, looking off to the side, “Not now.”

Jaemin stops and then looks up at Renjun, face clearly depicted frustration and Renjun gulps under the gaze. The brown haired city man does not end up saying anything. Rather, he looks back down and finishes up Renjun’s bandaging and then puts all of the items he used back in their respective cabinets. 

Renjun slips off the mattress and mumbles a ‘thank you.’

He didn’t hear a response back. 

  
  
  


Renjun tries to make himself relax as he sits on his raggedy bench, as he always describes it, facing the moonlit fields. The new moon had passed and a sliver of light shows up as the waxing crescent phase comes in. It sheds slivers of light onto the scenery in front of him, and he tries to make his ears tune in to the sound of crickets, of the stalks rustling, or the owls hooting in the distance. He tries to make his mind focus on anything but how wrong it all felt.

How wrong it felt for Na Jaemin to be cold to him like this. Renjun knew it was his doing. Renjun knew it was because he took all the opportunities he could to distance himself from Jaemin. But for some reason, he didn’t expect it to feel this bad. What _had_ he been expecting, if he was being honest. Much to his confusion, this felt _worse_ than letting Jaemin leave on a happy note. It was as if he was cutting it short before it was even time. It was as if Jaemin already left even though they had about a month to go.

A month, Renjun thought. A lot could happen in a month. Were they just going to be like this for a whole month. He cringes to himself. The thought was unbearable. _Fuck_. He had been cursing a lot more lately. But he couldn’t help himself. 

He stares at the field in front of him and curses at it in his mind for not being able to do what it usually did. For not being able to provide him the companionship and peace of mind he needed. Even when Na Jaemin was not physically there, he was taking up space within his mind. 

Renjun sits there for only a little bit, but it _felt_ like hours. Of course it felt like hours. How could it not when he was constantly wondering how much time had passed, kicking himself because that behavior was like Jaemin’s own. How could it not when he constantly turned at every sound, hoping it was Jaemin who decided to show up. How could it not when all he wanted to do was make his way across Jebaek and into that boy’s arms, the same boy that he cannot stop thinking about.

He liked Jaemin. It was undeniable. But what he wanted to know was the _extent_ to which he liked Jaemin. He hated that he doubted because of Jaemin. He hated that his heart was never sure of itself because of Jaemin. He hated that every single second of every single day, he wanted to be by Na Jaemin. Wanted to be held by him. Wanted to be kissed by him. If he had a choice, he wouldn't. Because who in their right mind would subject themselves to this longing. Renjun closes his eyes and tilts his head up towards the sky. 

Maybe it was the late hours, he blamed. Maybe he was not being rational, he blamed. Maybe he hadn’t been thinking straight, he blames. Because he loses the battle, and before he knew it, his legs were guiding him back 381 steps towards his house. But he could have just stopped there. He could have just stopped at his house, gone in and up to his bed, and slept the thoughts away. He could have. But he didn’t. 

Instead, Renjun’s legs move on their own, across the village until he stands in front of a familiar house. He hesitates in front of the door, but lets his wants take control. He opens to turn the knob, and ventures into the dark house. He makes his way up the stairs, and he knows his footsteps could probably be heard. He knows Jaemin probably knew who it was, and if he was being honest, it hurt his pride to show up like this. But he didn’t seem to care. 

When he stands at the entrance of the bedroom, as expected, Na Jaemin wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, hands on both sides as if getting ready to go somewhere, a jacket on his body. On the nightstand, his notebook laid open with a bunch of notes. 

At the bottom of the page, it read

 ~~Day 25. Healing.~~ Done. 

Jaemin could feel the presence at his door, and he turned his head around to see Huang Renjun standing there, guard down and words at the tip of his tongue. 

It was just silence for a while, and Renjun was starting to hate it. He hated the silence between them, after being used to it all day, and he makes his way over until he stands in front of Na Jaemin, who then looks up at him. Renjun felt his breathe disappear as he looks into that _gaze_. 

He couldn’t help himself. He stands there in front of where Jaemin sat on his bed, but then he closes his eyes and let his pride crumble, just for the night, “Jaemin.”

The boy in question lets out a low response, “Renjun.”

It took a moment for Renjun to say, but when he did, he wanted to hide afterwards, “Hold me. Make up for today. I hated it.” 

Jaemin looks at him for a second, wondering if he heard right. Renjun? Was this even him? But at the sound of his friend's voice pleading, Jaemin does not hesitate to pull Renjun forward by the waist and bring him down until Renjun landed on his lap, and then pulled him in close for a tight embrace. Renjun arms found their way around Jaemin’s shoulders, and Jaemin buried his face into his friend’s shirt, taking a deep whiff of how nice the man smelled. 

“I didn't like it much either,” Jaemin grumbled into the clothing before looking back at Renjun through his fringe, head tilted up, “You know what I hate more though?”

Renjun mumbled, “What?”

Jaemin let out a sigh and then brought one hand up to wipe a stray hair from Renjun’s eyes, “When you close yourself off to me as if I’m leaving tomorrow. You’re afraid of finality, and you know it. We've talked about it. But don’t you find it ironic that because you fear finality, you end up cutting me off before we even reach the end?” 

Renjun pursed his lips and looked off to the side, “I kno-”

“No, you don’t know,” Jaemin said, bringing Renjun’s face back to look at him, “There’s a lot I’ve learned here in Jebaek, Renjun. But here’s something you can learn about us city people. We’re not afraid to be selfish. Time moves fast, and if you blink, you’ll miss it. Time moves so damn fast that the end will come soon regardless of whether or not you want to face it.”

Renjun was conflicted. He was not used to things ending. In Jebaek, everything is constant. The mountains, the rivers, the fields? It will always be here. Even when he’s gone, they will always be here. The people are always here. The sights are always here. He never had to worry about finality. So now that something had a deadline to it, he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“What do you want me to do?” Renjun then asks in a quiet voice. 

Jaemin looked at him with all sincerity, hands firm on the boy’s small waist, “Give me your all, Renjun.” He says this and then buries his face back in Renjun’s chest as he pulls the smaller closer, “I want 100% of you. Don’t hide from me.” 

Renjun is quiet, and then Jaemin adds, “If this is going to end, then I want us to end our friendship without regrets.” 

Renjun shakes his head suddenly and makes a move to get off, but Jaemin doesn’t let him. Renjun whispers in a pained voice, “No matter what we do, there's going to be regrets, Jaemin."

Jaemin sees no problem in Renjun statement and he shrugs his shoulders as if it was obvious, "Then hell, Renjun. What are you guarding yourself for? If there's going to be regret no matter what, then why not give in to me while I'm here?"

"Give into you..." Renjun repeats and then laughs dryly, "Why do you talk like we're more than just friends."

Jaemin looks at him and without blinking, replies, "Why do you pretend that we aren't?" 

"What?" Renjun asks shocked. 

And Jaemin gives him a side smile, "I'm kidding."

"Of course you are," Renjun rolls his eyes.

Jaemin cleared his throat and tries again, voice more gentle, "Renjun, I'm serious about what I said earlier. Give me a hundred percent. I hate it when you close yourself off from me." 

Renjun purses his lips and then looks over to the side. A hundred percent was a lot to ask, "What do I get in return?" _Heartbreak and regrets when this is all over?_

But Jaemin comes up with a better answer. He says, and Renjun couldn't help but be convinced, "Two hundred percent back."

Renjun goes silent and then stares at his friend incredulously. He wasn't sure if Jaemin was joking or not, but the way Jaemin was looking at him for answer has him unable to think. He looks into Jaemin's brown eyes and knows that he's over. 

So in that state of mind, Renjun mutters out an "You're ridiculous."

Jaemin laughs but looks at Renjun adoringly. Renjun wished that he wouldn't look at him like that. It made everything harder. Jaemin replies, "Is that an okay?"

Renjun purses his lips and he doesn't want to say it. Because this meant surrender. But he thinks of their day. Of how much it absolutely pained to not be close to Jaemin, not be talking to Jaemin, not be _with_ Jaemin. And he realizes he would've came to the same conclusion no matter what. So he says, "Okay."

Jaemin smiled, and repeated the word, "Okay."

They were now left in a settled silence, and Renjun takes the time to notice. When he had come in, Jaemin had been sitting on the edge of the bed with a jacket on as if he were going somewhere. He must have interrupted those plans. 

“Renjun mumbled, asking, “Were you going somewhere before?” 

Jaemin relaxes his posture before replying, “Yeah.”

The raven-haired boy purses his lips and nods, “Sorry, should I leave.” 

He made a move to get off, but Jaemin puts a firm hand on his waist, not too tight but not too loose and stops him in his movements, “I was going to you, Renjun. Don’t go home.”

 _Don’t go home_ , is all Renjun needed to hear and he turned to look at his friend, “What did you need?”

Jaemin looked down at the two of them, sitting like they were, with him holding the smaller like he was, and then he looked back at Renjun, “This.” 

Renjun looks at the two of them and then back up at Jaemin, even in the darkness of nighttime, Renjun was mesmerized by Jaemin, "This?" He whispers, "What is this?" He says this softly, almost afraid of the answer. 

Jaemin returns his stare and gives a smile but does not answer. He does not answer, for he wasn't sure what he would reveal to himself if he found the truth. So he left the air ambiguous, and soon enough, Renjun would forget it. And they will just go to bed like this, with Renjun in his arms, and not question it. Not question that it wasn't normal for friends to do this. That it wasn't normal for friends to _feel_ like this. 

And so Jaemin slept well that night. He slept _suspiciously_ well. It was if something changed in him when he decided to accept Jebaek a little into his heart, even after the little squabble from earlier. It was still hot, still sticky, but his body seemed to make that a second thought behind the feeling of Renjun’s body in his arms. That intoxicating scent of honey and lily. The soft head of hair nuzzled up in his chest. The gentle breathing, and the small hands palming his shirt. He could die in this embrace, and if he woke up in heaven, then he wouldn’t have known the difference. This was heaven, with Renjun in his arms. Right here. 

Renjun wakes up alone, but despite that, he didn’t _feel_ alone. The bed was empty, but he knew where Jaemin was. Na Jaemin was out in the village, assisting him once more with his morning tasks. The early morning comes, and he pulls himself up to a sitting positing. His legs were still tangled in the sheets, but it was only a few hours ago that they were tangled up in Jaemin’s own legs. The thought made him blush. He leans back against the headboard and plays his fingers in the stream of dark, hazy light filtering in through the window slits. 

He thought of what Jaemin said last night. _Give me your all, Renjun._ His all. Renjun was already tempted to do so. All Jaemin had ever needed was to ask. He had already been on the edge of giving in completely, saved only by some straws of self-preservation, as he had been doing with pushing Jaemin away. But now that the man stands there, and asks Renjun explicitly to surrender, Renjun finds those straws slipping out of his grasps. He knows it will hurt. He knows that when the fiftieth day comes, and Na Jaemin steps back onto that train, Renjun will not know what to do. 

That being said, he couldn’t help but trust Jaemin when the man says that if their 'friendship' was going to end, then it should end with both giving everything they’ve got. He wasn't sure if he could keep that promise. He knows that when the end comes, he will be too afraid. But until that day comes, would it be so hard to try? Renjun wonders what it would feel like. To give it all to Jaemin. To spend the rest of his remaining days by the man without trying to distance himself. To speak to him as if was staying forever. To jump headfirst into a sea of thorns. He wonders if the pain would be worth it. 

He figures that he was going to find out. After all, he agreed. He had agreed implicitly, to give him everything. Everything. Renjun thought of that word. Everything. He shakes his head to himself, biting on his lip gently, as he thinks. He can’t, he decides. He can’t give Jaemin 100% like the man asked. Instead, he will give the man 95% percent. The other 5%, the percent that consists of his feelings that he could deny a million times over and it still be rampant in his heart, the percent that he is scared of the most, will be kept to himself. It grew by the day. Larger and larger until it took up all the space in his heart. Until Jaemin took up all the space in his heart. 

It was the 26 day, and they officially passed the halfway mark. The thought of it scared Renjun, but he made himself be brave for Jaemin, who so politely asked for his heart and soul, so Renjun naturally had to give it to him. 

It was one of Renjun’s days, and he tries his best to make himself savor it as much as possible. Each second became so precious to him. He never thought much about time before, but now, it was all he could think about. He blamed it on Jaemin being a bad influence on him. He’ll blame everything on Jaemin, he decides. Even though deep down, he knew his own heart was at fault more than anything else. But still, he will blame Jaemin. 

It was Jaemin’s fault, he said, that his heart skipped a beat when Jaemin comes back into their room later after he finishes up the task and scoops Renjun up in his arms again as they sleep into the afternoon together.

It was Jaemin's fault, he said, that he feels _too_ happy as they spend the day by each other’s side without missing a second. Whether it be wringing the laundry to put to dry outside or walking through the village together like when they were younger, feet sliding across the cobblestone. 

It was Jaemin’s fault, he said, that he feels a longing feeling in his stomach as it approaches nighttime and it was time to go after the memory of the day. As Renjun guides Jaemin far past the village and make slow steps outside the boundaries towards the East, he wonders how many of these memories they’ll have left to relive. The countdown was starting to petrify him. 

Their legs take them far out of Jebaek until it was merely a speck behind them. Instead, in the darkness of the night save for the pretty moonlight, they approach a hill. It wasn’t the hill Renjun cared for. It was what was beyond it. He looked in the direction of Na Jaemin, as if waiting for the memories to rush in. Jaemin, as if on cue, has flashes in his eyes as it rushes in. The smell of lavender. The nights spent laying on top of the buds. The short kid legs prancing through it. The mystical feel of the place, as if it was all part of a fantasy. 

Renjun knows Jaemin remembers. At this point, he catched Jaemin’s cues easily. In his head, there is a bittersweetness to it, because he knows that with every memory Jaemin gains is one less day together. But he forgets about this temporarily, as the man takes his hand suddenly and pulls him forward to run alongside him up the hill. He forgets about it, as Jaemin and him reach the top of the hill and sets their sight in front of them.

Fields of lavender and Four O'Clock flowers, except its purple hues were so vibrant that they almost seem to glow in the moonlight. It was like a scene from cyberpunk movie, where everything seemed to glow neon in the night lights. However, instead of neon, there is just the overwhelming brightness of the lavender and four o'clocks that rolls in the hills. Jaemin felt as if he touched one, then it’ll leave its glowing essence on his fingertips. 

With his left hand clasped in Renjun’s small ones, Jaemin begins running through the field. Renjun right behind him. They run until their legs are used to the painless prickling of the lavender leaves brushing past their lower calves. The lavender seemed to part ways as they ran past, but he knew it was just them pushing it. It felt like they were kids again, able to enjoy the fantastical elements of youth.

Renjun begins laughing at their aimless running and teasing Jaemin, who finds that there is no sound more beautiful than that. That laugh. That voice. Jaemin starts laughing with him, and it was just like that. Two men, who from an outsiders’ perspective may look deranged, but to them, it was just pure _happiness._ It was moments like this that Renjun forgets that Jaemin was leaving. And Jaemin forgets that he was leaving. They could live in this moment forever, and it would be okay. 

“Let’s pretend something,” Renjun says, pulling them to a stop in the middle of the lavender fields. His breathing was a little labored from the running, but nothing too drastic. 

Jaemin stops and then turns towards his friend. Renjun wanted nothing more right now than to fall and melt into that embrace, to make himself small in Jaemin’s large build. But he refrains. 

Jaemin gives him a goofy grin, “Yeah? What is it?”

“Let’s pretend...,” Renjun says while the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. He paused and then continued, “that this is a magical field.”

Jaemin laughs and takes a step around the field while glancing at all the pretty flowers, “A magical field?”

“Yes,” Renjun nods. He knows how childish and cringey this was, but he does what he needs so that he can feel mentally at peace, “It stops time, as long as we don’t step out of it.”

“Ah, a time-stopping field,” Jaemin shakes his head in acknowledgement then adds, “We should stay forever then, right?”

“Right,” Renjun smiles with a laugh, “If we stay forever here, then we won’t have to leave.”

“Then I won’t have to leave,” Jaemin grins, knowing what Renjun was getting at. 

“Exactly,” Renjun affirms, “But remember, we can’t leave. If we leave, then time starts again.”

Jaemin nods, as if he understands now, “I see now. Will we stay young forever too?”

Renjun smiles widely and plays with a flower, “Yes. We’ll stay young forever. And happy forever. And nothing has to end.” 

“I like this game, Peter Pan,” Jaemin chuckles and then falls back onto the field of lavender and four o-clocks. Until he’s looking up at the sky through the pretty flowers. 

Renjun grins and lays himself down next to his friend, right on Jaemin’s chest, whose arms hold him protectively. 

He likes the game too, Renjun thinks, but what he doesn’t say is that he wishes it wasn’t a game. He wishes it was a reality. Because the truth was that as cute as it was to pretend, it held a sense of sadness in it. They were pretending this bliss would last forever, because both knew in real life, it wouldn’t. 

So be it, Jaemin thinks to himself, let’s pretend for the night. So they do. They prance around the field like deer in the moonlight, pretending they were in the realm of fantasy where time never runs out. Listening to the sound of crickets and rustling wind as they even dance together in the field, both feeling a high as if they were gods who escaped death.

It was a sad game they were playing, but one that allowed both Renjun and Jaemin to have a moment of blissful ignorance. 

Even as the two got tired and figured it was time to head back to Jebaek and get some sleep for the night, neither of them as they reached the edge of the field again found the will to step out. When they step out, they’ll realize that time never stopped. When they step out, reality will seep in again. Their stupid little game had gotten to their heads.

It was Jaemin who stepped out first and offered Renjun a hand. 

“Come on, Jun,” Jaemin said with a bittersweet smile, but his tone was playful.

Renjun talks while looking at the hand Jaemin offered him, “But we’ll stay young forever. And happy forever.” He repeats his words from earlier. 

Jaemin looks at Renjun softly before stepping forward and reaching down to the ground, where he plucked a stray flower from the dirt. Then taking it in his fingers as he stands up, Jaemin tucks the flower behind Renjun’s ear and then offers the man his hand once more, “There. Now you’re not really leaving the field. You’re taking it with you.”

Renjun purses his lips, and looks up at his friend, whose eyes make his heart patter more and more as of recent, and he shakes his head with a small smile, as if he couldn’t believe Jaemin exists. He takes the boy’s hand, and he is led out of the field. His feet step out and suddenly reality hits. He lets out a bittersweet smile and walks alongside his childhood friend. 

When they part ways, Renjun doesn’t go home just yet. He spends half an hour alone, at his corn field, wishing it would give him the same comfort it used to. No matter how much he tried to savor it, it seemed as if Jaemin had also tainted it. Every crevice of Jebaek was slowly being taken over by the presence of the boy, and Renjun could feel it coming. It was like rolling storm clouds coming from a mile away. Everyone can see it. No one can do anything about it. 

~~Day 26. Purple fluorescent fields.~~ Done.

  
  
  
  
  


“Teach me about self defense,” Jaemin requests the next afternoon. 

Life was coming back into his eyes since he had been able to get a little more sleep lately. He felt a lot more energized, and it was almost like drawing power out of Jebaek itself. Now, they are eating lunch in the pavilion. A simple lunch of cold noodles with various side dishes. It was a hot day outside, musty with humidity and warm with the sun’s midday heat. They sit outside on that pavilion on one side of the wooden table. There weren’t many people there today, but when someone did happen to pass, they always made sure to take a long look at Jaemin and the two of them. Renjun didn’t blame them. Even with one leg on the chair and bowl in his hands between his muscular legs, Jaemin looked like the hunk everyone always imagined their perfect man to be. He was so _big_ in stature compared to Renjun himself that Renjun found himself wanting to just melt in those arms and take Jaemin for himself. He wanted to run his hands over those arms, the torso, that _face_. 

Maybe he had been staring too long, bowl going limp in his hands, for Jaemin had looked up at him and returned the stare for a second before smirking, “What.” 

Renjun shook his head and cleared his throat, his neck heating up, “I was just thinking... about how to teach you…”

Jaemin leaned his body forward until he was right in Renjun’s face as they sat opposite of each other on the same side of the table, “Does thinking usually require you to look at me like that?” 

“Look at you like what?” Renjun innocently asked, acting oblivious. 

Jaemin chuckled, not moving away and raised one eyebrow quickly, “Nothing.” He said then leaned back again. Renjun found himself releasing a breath. 

Renjun sits a little straighter and sets his finished bowl down, “We don’t have a militia or anything like that, if that’s what you’re asking. People just know a traditional form of martial arts,” He explained while taking a sip of water. 

“Which is?” 

“Taekkyeon,” Renjun answers, “You probably don’t kno-”

“I know it,” Jaemin corrects him, “I did hapkido for a couple years, so I’ve heard of that one too.” 

“Oh, really?” Renjun cocks a brow, “So you probably would pick up everything quickly, right?” 

Jaemin smiles, “Probably.” 

“In that case…” Renjun begins while picking himself up off the table and reaching his hand out for Jaemin’s own, “Let’s go.”

They venture out into a pond situated on the southwestern side of Jebaek, not too far from the village and any person from Jebaek could easily go there. In fact, when they got there, a couple children were playing around and Renjun shooed them to another place until it was clear. The pond was decent sized, but there were stone steps in the water that led from the land all the way to the middle of the pond, in which there was a large traditional style gazebo.

The gazebo, as Renjun says, was used most mornings for Taekkyeon instructors to teach kids or whoever wanted to learn. They made large steps across the stone walkway, careful not to fall in the water until they stepped into the gazebo. 

Once inside, Renjun advised Jaemin to take his jacket off. 

“What?” Jaemin asked with an amused face, “You’re going to be teaching me?”

Renjun offered him a sweet smile, “I’m not too out of practice, don’t be scared.”

Jaemin laughed, “Alright.” 

Jaemin takes his jacket off and hangs it over one of the gazebo borders. Cracking his neck, he stretches his arms a little. Renjun gulps at the sight and starts stretching himself. 

They begin with a couple of warm up exercises so that Renjun could gauge Jaemin’s skill level. Not to his surprise, this was _also_ something Na Jaemin was good at. It was most likely due to his Hapkido background, but Jaemin picks up everything a little too easily. They go easy, with Renjun teaching him basic attacks and defenses. It turns out that the two sports had a lot in common. The things they didn’t have in common, Renjun is quick to show Jaemin, and Jaemin is quick to pick it up with ease. It was honestly a little concerning. 

“Try kicking with the outside in,” Renjun says, back slightly sweaty from the physical exertion. 

Jaemin in an offensive stance glances at his friend, “Show me.”

Renjun purses his lips and directs Jaemin, “Turn your body around.” Jaemin does so, and then Renjun keeps on directing him until as easy as that, Jaemin can perform the move. He was a quick learner. Too quick. 

“In Hapkido,” Jaemin starts, “We don’t do that as often. There’s a lot of sweep kicks, though, to the lower leg.” 

“Yeah?” Renjun says, not particularly interested. 

Jaemin doesn’t give him a choice though to be interested or not because the taller then moves over until he was directly behind Renjun, Jaemin’s front against Renjun’s back. Suddenly, the raven-haired boy forgets how to breath as he feels his friend pressed up against him. He can smell Jaemin’s familiar cologne, and he clamps his mouth shut so that he doesn’t whimper. 

Jaemin’s hands go down to his waist and holds them in place while pulling back on his right hip. Right near the nape of Renjun’s neck, Jaemin speaks and it makes Renjun want to shiver, “Loosen up.”

How could he, Renjun thinks, when Jaemin is feeling him like this. _Loosen up_ , even the words make him want to mentally scream. Renjun tries regardless and relaxes his body, trying to pull his mind off how right it felt for Jaemin’s body to be pressed against his.

“I’m loose.” Renjun says, trying not to stagger his voice. 

Jaemin chuckles then says in a suggestive manner, “I’m sure you’re not.” 

“What?” Renjun says in a shocked voice and whips just his neck to the side to peer at his friend. Was Jaemin implying what he thought he was implying? 

Jaemin pretends he hadn’t said anything at all, “Nothing, turn around.” 

Renjun chews the inside of his cheek but turns around anyways, heat crawling up his neck. He hadn’t been imagining what Jaemin said, had he? He turns around and almost lets out a sound as Jaemin’s hand pull on his hip again so that they were in more of an offensive position, ready to swing his body forward. 

Jaemin’s hands slide down to Renjun’s soft thighs and pulls them backwards. Renjun tries his best to concentrate as he slides his right leg back as far as Jaemin wanted him to. Jaemin was saying something about momentum, but Renjun could not find himself listening. 

“And when you’re ready to swing, you just push this leg,” Jaemin taps on it, “with as much force as you can but channel it towards the opponent’s upper ankle. Like you’re swiping at it.”

Renjun nods, “Aren’t I supposed to be teaching you?”

“Yeah well I got a little bored,” Jaemin says, “It’s a little too easy.”

“Bored?,” Renjun scoffs then turns his body out of Jaemin’s grasps. The man in question slides his hands in his pocket and lifts his head slightly while looking down at his childhood friend. Renjun slightly licks his lips but ignores the gaze, “You know in Taekkyeon, we’re allowed to thrust fingers into the opponent’s eyes, right? I’d be careful if I were you.”

Jaemin’s force contorted to one of concern, “That _can’t_ possibly be allowed.” 

“It is,” Renjun reaffirms, “ I’ve been going easy on you. I will jab your eyes out if you insult the sport again.”

Jaemin then steps back and brings his arms out as if ready for a match. He winks at Renjun, “I’d like to see you try.”

Renjun narrows his eyes. He knows Jaemin was trying to pull his strings, and it was working, “You’re trying to irritate me.”

Jaemin cocks his head to the side, “Smart. There you go, psychoanalyzing me again. Well, is it working?”

Renjun steps back and gets in position before smiling, “It is.”

With that, Jaemin makes experienced foot movements towards Renjun, who steps back. With Jaemin immediately on the offensive position, Renjun knew it was only a matter of time before has cornered so he gets into the offensive position himself. It was a small match, and they go at it for a little bit, different kicks and hits. Not too hard, but definitely not too soft either. Renjun didn’t mind. Jaemin didn’t either.

There was a clear difference in both of their respective styles, but Jaemin tried to his best to incorporate Taekkyeon movements in the match, so that it _somewhat_ relates to their lesson. That’s where he goes wrong though, because Renjun was better at any given Taekkyeon technique than Jaemin was, and he always uses those opportunities to get something in. But when Jaemin was using exclusively Hapkido moves, they were a match. 

Sweat drips down the side of Renjun’s forehead and he goes in for the kill. An upper kick from the outside to the neck. But it looked as if Jaemin was also going in for _his_ kill, for at the same time, Jaemin pulls his right hip back, ready to swing forward. Just as Renjun’s foot goes up towards his neck, Jaemin holds it in place because at the same time, he gestures down towards the one foot Renjun had anchored to the ground. The smaller looks down, and Jaemin had swung his right leg forward and it sits at the base of his ankle. One move and Renjun would be down to the ground, while at the same time, Jaemin would have had his neck hammered if Renjun had gone all the way. 

They were in a checkmate of sorts and both let go. 

Renjun smiles, “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Jaemin asks shaking his head, “Give me a little bit more than that.” 

Renjun turns his head to the side with a grin, “What do you want, then?” 

“Let me go with you to your field tonight,” Jaemin asks, reaching over to grab his jacket again. 

Renjun gives Jaemin a look and then sighs, “You’ve already ruined the place for me, why not. Just come.” 

Jaemin gives Renjun a big grin and reaches over to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Perfect. I counted before for myself. It only takes me 236 steps to get there.”

  1. Renjun stops in his steps and looks up to the sky thinking about it. He knows that numbers. Was it fate? Renjun tries to hide a smile at the irony that he only knows. The universe really had a way of telling him things. It brought a bittersweet, sad smile to his lips. He purses them to hide it, but Jaemin notices. 



“What?” Jaemin grins.

Renjun shrugs, “Nothing. I’m just being superstitious.” 

“Well tell me,” Jaemin asks, looking at his pretty friend. 

Renjun wonders how to explain it, “Remember that English acronym you told me? About 381?”

Jaemin remembers, “Yeah.”

“I got something similar. Have you heard of angel numbers?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin tries to recall, “No, I don’t think so.”

“In Jebaek, there’s a lot of superstitions, and that applies to numbers too. There are special numbers with special meanings,” Renjun begins, “236 is one of them.”

“Hm,” Jaemin is curious, so he asks, “And that meaning is?”

Renjun then begins laughing a little and ignores Jaemin's question, “I think it’s funny. Almost like the world is trying to tell us something. I almost hate it.”

Jaemin is confused and a little eager to know now, “What is it?”

Renjun purses his lips and looks at his friend slyly, “I don’t think I’m going to tell you.” 

“You’re not going to tell me,” Jaemin repeats incredulously. 

“Nope,” Renjun says before making his way to the edge of the gazebo and stepping out onto the stone steps on the pond’s surface. 

He hears Jaemin muttering something under his breath from behind him, but Renjun just laughs. He laughs but inside his head he wonders. He wonders how it is that both of their steps had hidden meanings. It was something so useless seeming. So irreverent. Yet the signs were laced within all the smallest details. Were they just too daft to recognize it?

They spent that evening together. Renjun lets Jaemin to the field, and they sit on that raggedy old bench as the sun goes down, watching a flock of birds fly over the corn fields. This entire thesis expedition in Jebaek felt like a scene from a childhood nostalgia movie, and in a sense, it really was. The yellow fields. The dirt paths. The afternoons spent lounging by the lake. A lost childhood friend found once more. Nothing felt real, as if it was too perfect to be true. 

Jaemin and Renjun talk about anything that goes on their mind. Not a second was awkward. The transitions were smooth, and not once did either Renjun or Jaemin think of what they needed to say to keep the conversation going. It just _did_ , and they didn’t need to try at all. It was easy. It was comfortable. It was what a conversation between two people who _enjoyed_ each other's company immensely sounded like. Maybe a little too much. 

Renjun had a beautiful mind that explored the crevices of Earth’s wonders and mysteries. Jaemin had a more practical one that could tell Renjun hypotheses about those wonders and mysteries, but he could still offer wonders of his own. 

Even when they part ways to go home that night, their energies were still with one another. Even as Jaemin sits on his bed, notebook open with a bunch of notes from their day scribbled within it, he is still thinking of his friend. He thinks of 236. What it meant. 

He doesn’t know exactly when, but at some point, someone had let himself into his home. He had hoped it was Renjun, but when he peaks out of the door and at the first floor, it had only been Mrs. Rin coming up to give him the sheets that he had been drying. 

“Jaemin,” She sweetly said while handing over the sheets, “I had to take these off the clothing line. It looks like it’s going to rain tomorrow.” 

Jaemin looks out the window. It was nighttime and he couldn’t particularly tell. In the city, he had weather forecasts on his phone or on his TV, but there was none of that here in Jebaek, “How can you tell?”

“Warm air coming in, son,” Mrs. Rin says, “But the ground is cold.”

He still didn’t get it, but he was starting to realize that people in Jebaek had their ways that he could never understand. He says thanks and she makes her way to leave, but before she could, Jaemin remembers something.

“Ah, Auntie,” He says and she stops and turns around, “I have a question.”

She looked delighted to help, “What is it?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how to phrase it, “Do you know about angel numbers?”

She laughed, “Of course. We all do.” 

“Well there’s one I want to know about,” Jaemin says while rubbing the nape of his neck.

She nods, “Which number?”

“236.” 

Then, Mrs. Rin’s face morphed into one of amusement and then understanding, as if something clicked in her head. She speaks, “Say, Jaeminnie, I’ve noticed you’ve been spending all your time with our Renjun. Even when you don’t have to.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows. Why did it seem like no one wanted to straight up tell him, but he answers anyways, “Yeah, I do.”

Mrs. Rin nods with a smile on her face as she looks over at the lamp next to Jaemin, “Do you remember the first night you came, Jaemin? And I told you that Renjunnie will teach you things that no one else can?”

Jaemin remembers, he remembers clearly, “I do.”

“He’s giving you a bit more than you bargained for, isn’t he?” Mrs. Rin cryptically asked.

She waits for an answer, and Jaemin admits it, "Yeah, he is."

"But you don't think it's a bad thing, do you," Mrs. Rin read him, holding a finger up to wag.

Jaemin opens his mouth and hesitated before replying, "You're right. I don't."

Mrs. Rin says one more thing, “And something tells me, that you are giving him a bit more than _he_ bargained for too.” 

Jaemin’s words come off a little confused and impatient, “Mrs. Rin, I don’t understand.”

“The angel number 236,” She says, voice firm, “It means new beginnings, to have a second chance at something important to you. A second chance at a happy ending.”

Jaemin goes silent, and his jaw was slack. 

She continues, “But it comes at a price. Sacrifice. It requires you to release your fears and worries and let go of anything you are holding on to. Something that not many people can do.” 

Na Jaemin wasn’t sure what to think. He finds it all curious and shocking. He had never been a religious person, or a superstitious one. City people like himself were always practical in their beliefs and ways of life. But there was something about Jebaek, and this entire place that tells him there was a little more to life than what meets the eye. The odd coincidences.

He tells Mrs. Rin with an unconvinced voice, “It must be a coincidence.”

The experienced woman laughs lightly, “There _are_ no coincidences, Jaemin. The world has odd ways of piecing puzzles together, linking lives together, bringing fate into play. I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the signs, if I were you.”

 _I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the signs, if I were you_. 

Fuck, Jaemin refuses to believe it. Even despite just how _odd_ it was. It was too impossible to believe. 

When Mrs. Rin leaves, Jaemin lays back in his bed and thinks of Renjun. His pretty lips. His fluttering lashes. But also his voice. The way he laughs. The way the boy rants to him about whatever it was in his mind. The challenge of being with Renjun. The happiness of it also. 

A second chance, he then thinks. New beginnings, he thinks. 

And then he clears his mind of it, and looks back at his notebook. Superstitions are not real.

Hurriedly, he turns off the lamp and takes the pen in his hand, twirling it a couple times before bringing it to the paper. 

~~Day 27. Defense.~~ Done. 

  
  
  
  
  


They could barely see anything the next morning. Instead of it just being Renjun or just being Jaemin who helped filter the water in the morning, both of them decided to meet each other at the place beyond the village and help each other out. However, it was a particularly difficult task when the entire village was blanketed in a thick fog. 

The fog was dense and cold, sticking to their skin as they made trips back and forth doing the task. The cold front that had come in had not resulted in rain, as Mrs. Rin had said before, but this heavy fog that was so thick that if Jaemin steps just two meters away then Renjun could no longer see him. They blindly make their way around the place, until the task was finished. Usually, they’d be able to see Jebaek behind them, but not today. Today, everything was covered in the dense haze. 

When they finished, Jaemin and Renjun used their voices to find each other. Finally, after a bit of fumbling around, he could make out the outline of Jaemin’s figure, and he walked towards the person. Jaemin this morning was dressed in a knit black shirt and a pair of gray pants clung to his legs.

Renjun, for no reason and maybe instinct, reaches up to swipe Jaemin’s hair from his eyes. The taller appreciated the action and smiled, his head going back to what he was told by Mrs. Rin the previous night. A second chance. He thinks. A second chance at _what_? A happy ending? What did that even mean. 

“Thanks for helping me out, Jaemin,” Renjun smiles, “It means a lot. No one’s ever done things like this for me.”

“I know,” Jaemin laughs, “You’ve told me before, Jun.”

Renjun shrugs, “I’m still thankful.” 

“Well,” Jaemin reaches out to ruffle his friend’s hair, “Get used to it. I’ll be doing shit like this as long as I’m here.”

Renjun nods, trying not to take notice of the implication of ‘ _as long as I’m here_ ’ and then looks around them. Or at least tries to. Everything was the hazy white of fog, “My god, the fog.”

“It’s heavy isn’t it,” Jaemin looks with him. 

Renjun nods, "It is. It feels like I'm walking blindly everywhere." He says this as if he didn't feel that every day, walking blindly in deeper want and affection for Jaemin. But there was no need to reveal that. 

Then Renjun snaps his head forward again and looks at his friend, “Do you like hot springs?’

Jaemin gives Renjun an amused look, knowing where this is headed at this point, “Maybe I do.”

“You do,” Renjun affirms for him, “I’ll help you remember why you do.” 

Jaemin just trusts him. He has learned to, over the days they have been with each other. He learns to trust, something that he hasn’t learned how to do in a while. He knows why. It was where he was raised. The city. In a world where everyone is out for themselves, trust is difficult to hand out. But here, in Jebaek, where the water tastes raw in his mouth and the words of Huang Renjun sound like honey to his hears, he can’t help it. He can’t help but trust. 

They navigate through the fog like that, Renjun’s experienced legs finding their way around Jebaek easily. It was only when they get out of Jebaek and venture into the mountains, past the stream, that it becomes a little hard. They took different paths than what they were used to, and Renjun was surprised that his legs even remembered part of the path. It had been years and years after all. The fog was still heavy and rolled through the mountains. It was only when they exit the side of the first mountain and into a treeless space in between the range that Jaemin found something familiar.

The natural white granite, the steam that he feels before he even sees it, the faint trickling of tiered water. He knows where they are and he lets his legs carry himself there, trusting his body as he leads the way blindly through the fog. Warm water. Small children. Matted black hair and a lot of laughing. He remembers his childhood well. His eyes were as blind as the fog made it to be, but his mind paints his past colorfully. 

They reach the hot springs, and it was just a series of different pools that led into one another in tiers. The springs were only about two meters wide and the depth changed depending on where they were. But each spring would flow into another one, and then another one, until it was a complex system of hot springs nestled in between the mountain ranges. The fog was thick, but they could still see the springs around them. Or at least, faint outlines of it. The water was steaming, and inviting contrastingly to the cold fog sticking to their skin. Each pool was a stark blue, like the color of azul. The white granite that surrounds each pool make the water inside look even brighter. 

Jaemin pulled his clothes off, and tossed them to the granite ground underneath their feet. Renjun finds himself staring at the defined back muscles, and wanting nothing more than to rake his hands across them. He mentally slaps himself and then takes off his own clothes. Jaemin watches from the side and he doesn’t even bother to look away, even after Renjun meets his eyes. He just offers Renjun a look down, to which the smaller blushed and walked forward before lowering himself into the water. 

It was hot to the touch, and took a moment to get used to. They both had to lower themselves in inch by inch, or else the scalding water would shock their skin immensely. Renjun lets out a hiss as he gets settled into the hot springs and the water goes up to his lower chest. He lets it relax him, and he lays his head back against the side. Jaemin does the same thing also. The juxtaposition of the hot water with the cold fog that swirled around their face and shoulders was strange, but enjoyable in a way. 

They relax there for a while, and occasionally swim their way down to the other pools. They sit on opposite ends, allowing the moody but peaceful ambience to put them in a trance. Sometimes, the fog rolls in so thick that even from a meter away, Jaemin couldn’t see Renjun on the other end of the pool.

“Get closer,” Jaemin asks with his head leaned back against the side and his body mostly submerged in the hot water.

Renjun hums in a voice so soft that it could almost be considered seductive, “Why?”

“Because I can’t see you,” Jaemin answers nonchalantly. 

Renjun raises a brow, “Why do you need to see me?” He asks, but he slowly gets closer anyways. 

Jaemin picks himself off the side and meets Renjun a quarter of the way, looking down at the boy he called his childhood friend. In a swift motion, Jaemin reaches down to pull Renjun up by his thighs, until the raven haired man is straddling his waist in the water. The buoyancy helps and Renjun puts his arms around Jaemin’s broad shoulders, breath stopping as he is suddenly _very_ intimately close in proximity to Na Jaemin, the handsome devil who had the body of a god and the personality of a flirt. 

“Because,” Jaemin says with a hint of a smile but mostly a smirk, “the fog is thick, you know? It would be a shame if I lost you in it.” 

The excuse was evident, and it was clear that he was being sarcastic. Jaemin’s hands feel so right around his thighs, slick with the hot water of the springs. Renjun smiles and calls his friend out on it, “It _would_ be a shame, wouldn’t it?” 

Jaemin walks backward slowly in the water, until his back hit the sides and he relaxes there, with Renjun melted in his body they belonged there like this their whole lives. He chuckles. 

Renjun looks at his friend with pretty eyes, “How many excuses will you go through until you just admit you like how I feel in your arms.”

This made Jaemin laugh. Of course Renjun would be the type to call him out on it, but Jaemin takes it in stride, “You tell me, Renjun. You do the same thing.”

Renjun blushed at that, forgetting that Jaemin was right. He _did_ do the same thing. 

He pursed his lips, and instead of answering, he lays his head in the crook of his friend’s neck, on top of his shoulders, and they stay like that. The hot water of the springs bubbling and flowing around them. The sounds of birds trying to find their way through the fog. The cyan blue of the water. The steam coming up from it. And Renjun’s body in his own. Fuck, Jaemin thought, this was a good way to live. 

They spend a couple hours there. The entire time was not spent in the water of course, for their skins would turn pruny. However, when they wanted to take a break, they would climb onto the granite and rest in the fog. It blew all around them like smoke tendrils, and gave a mystical and mysterious feel to the atmosphere. The granite was a cold juxtaposition to the hot water of the springs, so they switched back and forth whenever either seemed too much.

Jaemin was sweet. A side of him that did not make an appearance when they first reunited. He talks to Renjun as if they were best friends now, and to an extent, they were. They had spent so much time together that Jaemin was sure Renjun knew more about him than Mark does. Than anyone does, really. And with every sweet word, every playful conversation, every little thing that Jaemin did for him, Renjun found himself losing more and more. Love was a game. And he was losing. 

~~Day 28. Hot springs.~~ Done, Renjun wrote later that night, after they messed around doing various things throughout the day. The clock was ticking, and he was falling a little more every day. Going a little deeper every day in the hole he dug for himself. Fuck, he was falling in... Did he want to say that? Was he sure? Was that the word he wanted to use? Was he there yet? Maybe. Maybe not. It felt so powerful, and so terrifying of a concept that even to conceive thinking it felt like the ultimate surrender. But he knew he was on a fast track down that path regardless. How could he help it. When Jaemin talked to him the way he did. When Jaemin touched him the way he did. 

  
  
  
  


Day 29. Jaemin asks to learn about music. So Renjun shows him. They go around the village to different people who are able to play certain instruments and ask for a demonstration. Their journey takes them to several houses, and opens their ears to several sounds. Jaemin writes down the notes in his papers, but he finds it hard to take his sight off of his surroundings. The pretty music gracing his ears. The pretty boy gracing his side. 

Jaemin feels his arm gravitating to the small of Renjun’s waist as they walk. The feel of it was nice in his hands, and feeling Renjun move with him felt good for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. If Renjun was uncomfortable, then he didn’t show it. 

In fact, internally, Renjun wanted to scream. The moment Jaemin placed his hands on his waist, Renjun had to tell himself to _not freeze up, don’t freeze up, don’t freeze up_ . But he still had to ask himself _why_ was Jaemin’s hand on his waist. Did he just like how it felt? Renjun admits he likes how it feels too, but the movement was so subtle, so indicative of something a little more than friendship that it made Renjun confused. As they walk, Renjun scoots closer to Jaemin, and the taller man takes it as his opportunity to bring his hands further and closer on Renjun’s waist. The raven hair boy’s breath hitched.

They were currently walking towards Jebaek square where a small village band was going to play tonight a couple songs. When they got there, groups of villagers were already there. Some with their children. Some with their partners. Some alone just to join the ambience. Within the mix, Jaemin and Renjun looked like a couple themselves. 

They sit down and Jaemin lets go. Renjun feels the absence of Jaemin’s touch, but the way their shoulders graze next to each other as they listen to the pretty music was enough. The sun was setting, and basked the village square in its signature orange haze. Children were running around with kites in the square while listening to the music. And it was overall a beautiful vibe. Renjun whispers note material to Jaemin, who was listening at first and jots them down. But after a couple notes, Jaemin looks over at his friend, who stops in his words and stares back.

Jaemin then closes his notebook and holds it up to show Renjun before setting it down beside him, indicating that he wasn’t writing anymore for the day. 

Renjun looks at it and then back at his friend, “Your thesis…”

Jaemin looks back at the band playing and leans back on his hands, “I have enough information for today. And besides,” He glances over at his pretty friend, “Take things slow, right?” 

Renjun continues to stare at Jaemin, wondering how they got here from the one-track-minded Jaemin he met when he first stepped foot back in Jebaek, “Right.”  
He smiled to himself.

Later that night, when Jaemin decides to infiltrate his corn fields again, Renjun lets him. He doesn’t want to but he does. In a way, he finds that this officially symbolizes a white flag of sorts. All this time, he was saving parts of himself and his life in fear that he’ll have nothing left when all of this is over. He had been shielding little places and little spots in his heart away from Jaemin, hoping that it’ll save him from Jaemin when the man leaves.

However, it didn’t matter what he did. The brown haired man will finds his way through. So Renjun surrenders and lets Jaemin come, and decides to let it hurt. He was a mature person, which meant that he needed to face his fears. So by letting Jaemin here, he was doing just that. Facing his fears. 

So now they sit there. Or well, Renjun sits there. Jaemin is laying across the bench, with his head resting gently on Renjun’s lap while the smaller plays with Jaemin’s hair. Soft conversations fill the night. 

At some point, Renjun starts singing. Softly, but audible enough that it captivates Jaemin’s attention, and the man looks up at his friend while Renjun stares out onto the field gently singing a tune. It was beautiful. Renjun’s voice was as beautiful as the moonlight that streamed down to the Earth. It’s tone was as rich and full as the sweetest honey, and if Jaemin was not convinced that his childhood friend was the most surreal person on Earth before, then he was convinced now.

He listens to Renjun’s singing, and he thinks. He thinks that if it was any voice he wants to listen to for the rest of his life, it was this one. If it was any voice he would want to hear nagging at him, or speaking softly to him, or singing to him, he would choose this one in a heartbeat. 

At the sudden realization, Jaemin pulls himself up to a sitting position and reaches a hand out to bring Renjun’s chin over to look at him. The smaller suddenly stops singing, and it felt like he stopped breathing too as he looks back into Jaemin’s unforgettable gaze. 

Jaemin’s eyes drop down to Renjun’s lips. Renjun notices but he keeps silent. And then Jaemin’s eyes move around his face, as if he loved every single inch of it. As if every detail was part of a work of art. Renjun was about to open his mouth to ask Jaemin what he was doing. 

But Jaemin beat him to speaking first, and his words came out in a whisper, “Say my name.”

Jaemin wasn’t sure why he asked, or why he needed to hear his name out of Renjun’s pretty voice so badly, but he found himself not being able to stop himself from asking. The smaller seemed a little surprised at the request. Renjun tries to explore Jaemin’s eyes, searching for a reason. But he found none, even with all of his skills of reading people. Jaemin was a mystery, and Renjun stares at him some more for a beat of silence. 

And then, Renjun says in the same whisper that he had been asked in, “Jaemin.” 

Jaemin confirms it in his mind. There is no other voice he wants to be calling his name. His fingers move from Renjun’s chin to the side of the boy’s face, where he caressed his soft, naturally pink-tinted cheeks and brings his face closer. Renjun swore Jaemin was about to kiss him, but the man just lingers there, staring at him. At his eyes. At his lips. At his hair. Renjun felt naked under Jaemin’s eyes. And it was then that he _wanted_ Jaemin to kiss him. 

Renjun realizes this as he stares at Jaemin’s own lips, slightly parted as if thirsty and parched. Renjun scoots himself closer while repeating Jaemin’s name softly under his breath, “ _Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin,”_ He breathes as their foreheads rest against one another’s. The heat from each other’s bodies was _so_ present, so intense. 

Jaemin’s lips. Were so close. If Renjun reaches out just a little bit more, then he’d feel them again. If Renjun moves forward just a little ways more, then he’d be kissing the man. But, he also knew, that if Renjun reaches out a little more, then he’d never be able to stop kissing the man. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t get to make the bad decision, for Jaemin pulls away a little, and Renjun releases a breath before asking, “Why?” 

Jaemin, forgetting he shouldn’t be candid about these things, says what’s been on his mind, “I like the way it sounds, on your lips.”

Renjun looks at him with those same beautiful eyes that Jaemin can’t tear his own gaze away from, “Why are we doing this, Jaemin?” 

Jaemin raises a brow and smiles slightly. He asks in a slow voice, “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t it feel like we’re…” His eyes drop down to Jaemin’s lips on accident but he looks back up, “saying everything except for what we want to say?” 

Jaemin keeps quiet for a minute, but he simmers on the words. If it was anyone else, they would have left those words unspoken, but it was Renjun. Of course Renjun would call them out on the unrecognized truth that has been brewing for so long. It was _Renjun_ , after all. 

Jaemin laughs lightly, a soft but deep sound that sent chills down Renjun’s back, “Tell me then, what do we want to say, Renjun?” 

He hadn’t expected the question to be thrown back at him, and Renjun’s mind recoiled for a moment and he breaks his air of confidence as he answers. He shrugs quickly and leans back, “I don’t know.”

Jaemin shakes his head with a grin and then pats the side of Renjun’s arm, “See? You can’t say it now, so it looks like you don’t want to say it either, Jun.” 

Renjun looks at Jaemin then, not answering. And his mind is filled with thoughts. He could say it. He really could. He could say the words that Jaemin had just asked him to say. _I like you, Fuck, it's probably more than that. No, it IS more than that._ _I want you to stay. Nothing has ever felt like you. Nothing will ever feel like you_. But in the end, Jaemin was right. He was not ready to. Not today. Not now. 

~~Day 29. Music.~~ Done. 

  
  
  


Day 30. Renjun wants to show Jaemin a ghost village, abandoned with time for what looked to be years and years. Stone structures half destroyed and overgrown with kudzu. No one ever goes back here except for some curious teenagers from Jebaek once in a long while, mostly because it is hidden so far back behind a mountain that the trek there is a deterrent alone. At least two miles of mountain path had to be crossed before they reach the ghost village that seemingly dated back centuries, with stone exteriors and interiors alike. Renjun would not be surprised if spirits lived within the dwellings, waiting for fools like them to venture into their stone houses and disturb it. 

Everything seemed to be in decay, and markings were rubbed off what seemed to be very dated signs. Crumbling stone walls. Ivy and kudzu growing everywhere. A frightening wind blew through the village, sounding like the haunt of a ghost. Renjun's eyes sometimes played tricks on him and he swears he sees the flash of long black hair running behind a destroyed home, but when he looks again, it was just the dark shadow of a billowing tree.

Although it had taken a bit of time to get there, Jaemin didn’t find the trip strenuous at all. With Renjun, everything felt like it flew by quickly. In theory, that was a sign of a good friendship. But in the context of their situation, it was not a sign that Jaemin welcomed. Even when they’re doing something as slow paced as exploring an old village that Jaemin and Renjun had explored in their childhood, it all felt so fast with Renjun. Renjun, who spoke a million words a minute. Renjun, who always had a mind brimming with ideas. Renjun, who made every minute feel like seconds. 

They end up on a bridge that was placed near the abandoned ghost village. It looked to be very old, yet stood as sturdy as ever, unyielding to the forces of erosion. The red of the bridge’s hefty design had faded out a little, but the oriental designs carves onto the railings of the bridge were still easily upheld. They sit in the middle of the bridge, watching the heavy stream flow beneath them as it leads South. In both of their hands were apricots from a tree they had found in one of the overgrown stone houses. 

Renjun munched on one while constantly looking back at the creepy abandoned place and at the bridge they were sitting on. 

Jaemin notices and he laughs, “Renjun, what do you keep looking at?”

Renjun leans his body a little closer while still looking back at the overgrown village where not a single soul resides, “It’s a bad omen to be here.”

“Hm? Why,” Jaemin asked. 

Renjun’s shoulder visibly shivers, “I feel like I’m being watched.”

Jaemin laughs at the superstitious friend, “You are.”

Renjun whips his head around and narrows his eyes at Jaemin, “What?”

“By me,” Jaemin said and then leaned back on his arm, head tilted to the side slightly with a small grin. He knew exactly what to say to tease Renjun and it worked. The smaller threw a pitted apricot seed at Jaemin, which missed and landed in the water below. 

Renjun rolls his eyes, his pretty eyes Jaemin might add, before saying, “Not _you_.” 

“Well,” Jaemin looks around them, “Can you blame them? The ghosts, or demons, whatever it is you believe in, for watching you? You’re pretty.” 

Renjun’s jaw went slack and he just stares incredulously at his friend, mind forgetting completely about how creeped out he felt, “I’m starting to doubt you when you said that people from the city flirt with their friends so casually like this.” 

Jaemin’s playful grin only grows wider, “You’re only starting to doubt me about that _now_?”

Renjun gives him a look of horror and betrayal, “What? Are you saying I should have doubted you _earlier_?”

“No,” Jaemin said with an ambiguous tone in his voice, as if he very well could be lying. 

Renjun leaned his torso back and gave Jaemin the stank eye, “I don’t know what to believe with you sometimes.” He says with a playful tone and a scoff. 

Na Jaemin looks down at the bridge and then over at the water which flowed beneath it, hinting at only a smile, “Then just believe me when I say that you are _that_ . Pretty, I mean.” Jaemin looks up and catches Renjun with his gaze. _That fucking gaze_. Jaemin continues, “Pretty face. Pretty heart. Pretty words. Pretty soul. Taking me to all these pretty places.”

Renjun doesn't want Jaemin to say things like that. He desperately does not want Jaemin to say things like that, for when he does, it only implants stupid ideas into Renjun’s mind. It only drags Renjun deeper into the pit of hell that he calls his feelings. He tries to bite back the blooming feeling in his chest at the sound of Jaemin calling him pretty, in more ways than physical, but it continues to grow. 

Renjun lets out a soft laugh, “You use that line often?”

“No, but maybe I should,” Jaemin said chuckling, “Did it work?” 

Renjun shrugs, “I mean, I can’t say I’m not flattered.”

Jaemin tongues his cheek with a grin, “That’s all I need to hear.” 

Renjun shoots him a dirty look and leans over to pinch Jaemin’s ear. They sit back and Jaemin decides to go on a monologue about how he wanted a small tattoo on his shoulder, but wouldn’t actually do it for work-purposes. Renjun likes to listen, and appreciate the contrast. What contrast? The contrast of how Jaemin was like in the beginning. Calculated. Reserved his natural personality and curiosity. Focused on all the technical aspects of life that he forgets to enjoy the simplicity of a normal conversation. Now, the boy had no problem speaking on whatever comes to his mind, engaging them both in a mental journey that could begin from the subject of kangaroos and end on life after death. Renjun wasn’t just falling for Jaemin’s handsome face, his voice, his body, but he was falling for the way Jaemin spoke, the way he cared for him, the way they cared for each other. 

They head back before it got dark, thank goodness. The paranoia was getting to Renjun. Jaemin never believed in any of those things: ghosts, demons, spirits. But he did admit that the abandoned village had been a tad eerie. Old windchimes hung over stone doors swung in the wind, creating a haunting sound to add to the ambiance. Occasionally, it sounded like footsteps were pattering through the village, like children's footsteps, but in the end, it was just a flock of deer. Jaemin could tell Renjun was a little apprehensive about this, and he smiled. Cute. Renjun could do anything, and Jaemin would find it special. Jaemin tries to calm his friend's nerves by taking his hand in his own, guiding Renjun so that the smaller knows there was nothing to be afraid of. When he feels the boy generally relax, it makes Jaemin feel good. Because when it came to Renjun, Jaemin had an impulse. An impulse to give the boy everything he could. 

It was just never what he needed. 

~~Day 30. The abandoned village.~~ Done. 

  
  
  


Day 31. 

Jaemin asks to learn about drugs, and Renjun immediately sits back and laughs. 

“Why,” The boy asked, surprised that this was a topic.

Jaemin shrugged, “Villages may have spiritualist rituals involving drugs. Like in Peru, some people drink ayahuasca to open their minds and heal trauma.”

“Well,” Renjun snickers and looks down with a mischievous smile, “The teens have been dabbling into some...mushrooms.”

“For spiritual reasons?” Jaemin asks, twirling his pen in his hands. 

Renjun laughs, “No, no. Nothing like that.”

Jaemin raises a brow, “Then what is it like then?”

Renjun purses his lips trying to hide a smile and finally looks up to catch Jaemin’s eyes, “You want to see?” 

And that’s how they found themselves situated by the riverside, as dusk settles into Jebaek like a beautiful blanket of twilight haze, a cup of tea with the magic mushrooms steeped into it. It’s dark brown color looked intimidating, and the taste was a bit bitter to their lips. However, as the high settles in, both of them lay back into the grass and stared up at the sky. The colors changed and morphed into shapes of animals and pretty flowers. Was it real? Was it not? They weren’t sure, as the feeling settles into their minds and dilutes any sense of reason they might have had. Renjun had done this before once or twice, but it’s never felt like this. The colors. The sounds. Everything felt heightened, as if their sensitivity had been tuned to the max. 

Renjun turns his head over to look at Jaemin, whose eyes were glued to the sky. Jaemin looked extra handsome at the point, pretty colors and pretty lights. Pretty face and pretty lips. The grass seemed to tickle them underneath their skin and the wind spoke to them in their ears, whispering to Renjun all of his deepest temptations. Renjun felt as if he had to reach out and grab hold. 

He rolled over to his side and moves his body until he lays right up next to Jaemin, half of his body leaned on Jaemin’s right side. Renjun propped up on his elbows and looks down at his friend. Jaemin looks over at him, and felt as if Renjun couldn’t have looked more beautiful. His mind was muddled from the tea, but not enough to make him forget that Huang Renjun was fucking _beautiful_. 

Renjun reaches over to hold Jaemin’s face in his hands. It was now that he realized he had never done this before, and he asks himself why he hadn’t before now. The chiselled jaw in his hands felt so right. Jaemin stares right back into his eyes and he sees the world inside of them. 

With the high still in their system, Renjun tries to convince himself that he doesn’t know what he was doing when he leans down and ghosts his lips over Jaemin’s own. That he doesn’t know what he was doing when he lingers there for a moment too long. But he knows he does. Renjun knows _full_ well that even with the drug in his system, he knows what he is doing. 

He can’t bring himself to close the distance between them. 

So Jaemin does. But not on the lips. Switching their positions, right there on the grass bank right next to the river, Jaemin pushes Renjun onto his back until Jaemin himself was situated on top of the pretty boy. His strong arms were caged around Renjun’s body, and Jaemin tells himself it’s the drugs. It’s the psychedelics and the beautiful colors and beautiful patterns and the beautiful sounds. But he knows it’s not any of that. It’s the beautiful boy. Jaemin trails his lip to Renjun’s cheek. The touch was burning and gentle, and Renjun sighed into it.

Slowly, Jaemin’s experienced lips trail down to the nape of Renjun’s neck, teasing the soft expanse of smooth skin with touches that felt so sinful but at the same time so right. Jaemin took deep breaths into Renjun’s skin, as if inhaling all the energy and feeling from the boy who smelled like lavender and honey. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was going insane from the feeling of Renjun underneath him. The feeling of the boy’s waist. His neck. His skin. 

Renjun gently pushes him off then, and Jaemin is forced to go back down to the Earth from the place in the clouds he was in before. Renjun lays back and closes his eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it to continue. It was that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to stop. 

They lay there like that for a while, and when the drugs leave their system and they were just left staring up at the stars. 

That is when Renjun finally asks in a breathy voice, “It was just the drugs, right?”

Jaemin is quiet for a second then lets out a deep chuckle, “You can say that if you want to.” 

Renjun swallows, “Alright then.”

  
 ~~Day 31. Drugs.~~ Done.  
  


Day 32. Renjun takes Jaemin to the edge of a stone cliff. They came here to watch the sunset and my god was it worth it. The sky looked like it was painted. Splatters of beautiful warm colors blended well into the horizon. It was one of those sunsets that completely captivates you and leave you speechless. And Jaemin remembers this cliff. He remembers the picnics the two would have when they were little. The egg sandwiches tightly wrapped in banana leaves. The flasks of water from the stream. The two little boys who found adventures in the oddest yet most beautiful of places.

However, as they spent the day and evening together, watching over the village from the place on the cliff, with Renjun’s head on his lap and loud conversations filling the air between them, Jaemin does not go home that night with the memories of his childhood, but the memories of today. The memories of Renjun as he was now. With his pretty pink lips. His eyes that shine like diamonds. His voice that soothed like a warm bath on a cold winter day. 

It was up there that Renjun lets himself speak softly to Jaemin, as he lays on his chest, "I don't want you to leave."

Na Jaemin looks down at his friend, shocked at the bold words that he had heard before. However, it felt different this time. The last time Renjun had told him that he didn't want Jaemin to leave, it could have been taken in two different contexts. The first was the bedroom itself. Renjun might not have wanted Jaemin to leave his room that night. The second was the more revealing one. Jebaek as a whole. Renjun might not have wanted Jaemin to leave Jebaek as a whole. 

But this time, there was only one context. And it was the one that took the most courage to admit. Renjun thought he was being too obvious. It was evident in his voice that this subject hurt him. And although he hopes that Jaemin doesn't catch it, he knows the taller man probably did. He closes his eyes and remembers the feeling of laying like this. He buries his face into Jaemin's chest. 

Jaemin replies to him, voice gentle as if he understood. He didn't. How could he, "Renjun..."

"Please don't leave," Renjun asks knowing full well his request was fruitless. He knew the answer was no, except he still felt the need to ask. His voice barely raises above a whisper, but Jaemin hears it well. And it wasn't pleasing to the ears. The sound of Renjun feeling broken like this, hurt like this. 

But he stays quiet. He doesn't know what to say. What could he _possibly_ say.

~~Day 32. Stone cliff.~~ Done.

The days go on like this. Day 33. Day 34. Interesting lessons for the thesis morphed into adventures of their own. Interesting memories from Renjun’s catalogue resulting in new memories of their own. It gets more undeniable every day. The tension between them. The growing admiration and need for one another. The feeling of absolute _bliss_ when they were with one another. It didn’t matter if the entire afternoon was spent in Jaemin’s bedroom. It was an afternoon well spent. Renjun finds it harder and harder to bear the burden of having someone he cared for and wanted so immensely knowing it will end in hell. Jaemin finds it harder and harder to bear the weight on his chest that he had something perfect right in his grasp, but he's doing nothing about it.

They visit mangroves, where a kayak ripped through murky waters covered by a canopy of willows and mangroves growing straight into the water. Everywhere around them were water growing trees, and the willow branches often swung in front of them. Yet they paddled through it anyways, going where the wind takes them. Jaemin does the paddling with his strong shoulders and Renjun sits back to keep him company in conversation and in person. Occasionally, a duck would float across the surface, gliding its way past their boat. Renjun always smiled brightly at this, and Jaemin as he usually did, becomes mesmerized.

They learn about the visual arts scene in Jebaek, attending a small puppet theatre performance and sitting in the audience trying to hold in their laughs at how strange the story line was. Renjun had to elbow Jaemin so that the brown haired man would stop laughing; however, the action only made them laugh more. They surpressed it as much as possible, fearing that they were being rude. But as soon as the performance ends, and they leave the amphitheater, they lean against the side of the wall, holding their stomachs. It was moments like these that Renjun loves the most. With Jaemin, he could do this. He could laugh until he cried. He could regain his youth. He could fall in love with Jaemin's laugh.

But there was always that persistent feeling. The persistent feeling that irked the back of Renjun's mind that they spend more and more time together. But at the end, it will all amount to nothing. And they both knew it. And they both found it terrifying. 

  
  


Day 35. Renjun takes Jaemin to the beach. They had to leave very early in the morning. Right after they finish working the water system together, Renjun takes a packed bag and they leave on their bikes respectively. Jebaek was about an hour’s bike ride West to the beach. Rarely anyone went, for there were plenty bodies of water around Jebaek for villagers to enjoy themselves. But regardless, they took a dirt road that snaked in between some of the mountains and stopped numerous times along the way to rest before heading forward. 

It was around 9 A.M. that they arrived just beyond the last mountain and were met with white expanses of smooth sand as far as their eyes could see on both sides of them. Black mountains loomed right above the beach and the strip of sand was so soft and untouched that it squeaked beneath their feet. The ocean water that it led into was salty and crystalline. Gentle waves crashed onto the land and wiped away their footprints as they walked on the bank. The water could be seen through clearly, and its turquoise color reflected the light of the morning sun. 

They spend their entire day there like that. Running around the beach kicking up sand and relaxing getting a slight tan. Or in Renjun’s case, a slight sunburn on the bridge of his nose. He hates it, but Jaemin thought it looked cute. That, or they would swim in the salty ocean water. It was shallow for what seemed like forever, like a sandbar of sorts. Occasionally, a small fish would swim past their feet and Renjun would jump. It was only when they got out a little further that the water seemed to get a bit deeper. They swam until they could no longer feel the sand beneath their feet; however, the water was so clear that they could still _see_ their foot paddling below them.

The sun kissed their skin, and when it shone directly overhead in the afternoon, the boys went to sit under the shade of the mountain side crevices and ate some of the food that Renjun had packed. Drinking fresh water felt soothing to their throats, that had been swallowing salt water here and there from the beach all morning. 

Even then, after that, Renjun and Jaemin spent the next few hours in each other’s company on that beach. It’s soft sand now wet with their footprints. The waves got larger as the hours passed, and when the sun was a bit lower. The dim evening light of Helios graced the sky. They sat with their legs directly facing the beach, watching the colors of the sky morphe into shades of pink, purple, and red. It was a free lightshow that nature had provided to their eyes. 

Renjun looks over at his friend and then asks, “Today is an odd number day.”

Jaemin’s gaze tears away from the sky and then over at his friend, “Yeah? What about it?”

Renjun laughs. Did he really forget? Or is that too good to be true? Renjun reminds him, “You were supposed to pick a topic today, remember?”

“Oh right,” Jaemin nods and then brings one knee up while the other one still lays flat on the sand, “I had the topic for today. I just figured I’d just ask you later when we weren’t busy.” 

“We haven’t been busy all day,” Renjun snorts, “We’ve literally been running around the beach swimming, running, and talking.”

“Exactly,” Jaemin smiles, “Busy.”

Renjun shakes his head with a hint of a smile, “So, what was the topic?”

Jaemin turns his head and looks over at his friend then offers a knowing smirk, “Sex.”

Renjun chokes on his own spit and sputters at Jaemin, “Why do you need that for your thesis?”

Jaemin flicks Renjun’s forehead with his fingers, “Sex is in important function of society, Jun. Wars in the past had been fought over the touch of a woman, and sometimes men. The Trojan War, the Kurukshetra War. It has different roles in different societies. In some cultures, it is a sacred act used to demonstrate marital love. In others, it’s purely pleasure and a form of self expression.”

Renjun looks at his friend, understanding, “And how about you? In your life?” 

Jaemin looks down at his lip and chuckles at the question, “I enjoy it. In Seoul, premarital sex amongst people my age isn’t uncommon. Our parent’s generation might disapprove, but that’s not our problem.”

Renjun feels a strange sensation brewing in his stomach as he hears about Jaemin’s apparently active sex life, “You’re not the type to play around, are you?”

Jaemin is amused at the question but answers it anyways, “Not too much.”

Renjun nods, but he still tries to interpret what exactly that meant in his head. 

He didn’t have much time to, because Jaemin then strikes him with the question, “How about you, Renjun? Are you...innocent?” It was Jaemin's fluffed up way of asking if Renjun was a virgin. He didn't know why he wanted to know. Or maybe he did, and didn't want to admit it.

Renjun looks over at his friend, and Jaemin doesn’t break his gaze. It was unfaltering and curious, with the hint of something else in them. Maybe it was anticipation. He doesn’t know. Jaemin must have probably assumed he was, Renjun thought to himself, just based on how he acted sometimes and how Jebaek was a smaller, traditional village which usually points to outdated views on such things as sex and marriage. 

But Renjun shocks Jaemin slightly when he answers, “No.” 

Jaemin raises an eyebrow and tongues his cheek at the thought of it, “No?” 

“Are you surprised?” Renjun asks, tilting his head. 

“You’re 21 years old and beautiful. I shouldn't be surprised,” Jaemin answers nonchalantly then adds, “But I am. You’d think that Jebaek would have more outdated views on that kind of stuff…”

“Our parents and grandparents do,” Renjun answers, looking back towards the ocean, “But I think you forget, Jaemin. Teenagers are teenagers everywhere. The hormones are the same no matter what part of the country you are in.” 

“Right,” Jaemin understands. Jaemin wonders. He wonders who was it that got to touch Renjun intimately. That got to see him in the most lewd of lights. That got to be with Renjun in that way. But pushes the thought away. _Stop_ , he tells himself. 

“Even then,” Renjun adds, “It’s not as explicitly talked about, even when people do have sex. Not like how it is in the city. People keep those things to themselves for the most part, in fear of stigmatization. Since everyone knows everyone in the village, words gets around quick. Reputations die fast here.”

Jaemin nods, “Can I ask you how people approach the topic of getting together? For the thesis, of course.”

Renjun snorts, “I know it’s for the thesis, Nana. You don’t have to clarify. It makes you sound suspicious.”

Jaemin bites his tongue, not surprised that Renjun could see past that. 

Renjun continues though, then looking over at his friend, “It’s never direct. People never directly go up and ask if they could go home together. Not even in public. It’s a build up.”

“A build up?” Jaemin asks, “Of what?”

Renjun tilts his head to the side while his eyes fall on Jaemin’s adam’s apple, and then he doesn't know what had gotten into him, “A build up of small whispers,” To demonstrate his point, he leans in close to Jaemin’s ear to whisper his next words, “Of subtle touches that no one else can see,” He brings a hand over to gently run two fingers over Jaemin’s torso, right above where the waistband of Jaemin’s pants would start right at the groin. The touch stirred a feeling in the pit of Jaemin’s stomach. “Of gentle kisses behind the ear when they’re giving the person a hug.” Renjun reaches the short way down and softly lands a kiss right at Jaemin’s nape, and the brown haired boy was doing all that he could not to lose control of himself. 

And then renjun sits back, “Little things like that. Nothing too obvious, or word will get around.”

Jaemin’s throat felt dry as he stares at Renjun, the sounds of the waves crashing in front of the them and the pinkish color of the sky making their skins glow prettily, “Right.” 

“How about you, Na?” Renjun asks, wagging his feet in the sand, “What do you people do? I have an idea, of course, but tell me.”

Jaemin pursed his lips and leans his head back, “Like you said before, we’re a lot more explicit about it.” 

“How?’ Renjun asks. It felt like bait. And if that was the case, then Jaemin took it. He leaned his torso over to face Renjun and offered the pretty boy a small smirk.

“If we see someone we like, we’ll offer to buy them a drink.” Jaemin then reaches over to lift Renjun’s chin up while staring right at his lips unashamed, “We’ll say things like tell you that you’re sexy, that you’re all I want tonight. Gauge if the other person is feeling the same way.”

Renjun’s eyes flutter at the touch and he asks, “And if they do?”

Jaemin’s hands leave his face and drops down the Renjun’s thighs. Renjun’s _beautiful_ , soft thighs, and Jaemin puts his hand there, rubbing circles as close as possible to Renjun’s skin. The boy in question lost his breath and his eyes flickered to the movement. Jaemin answers, “Then we play a little more, like this.”

“Like this,” Renjun repeats breathily while looking at how close Jaemin was getting with his hands. Jaemin didn’t want to stop, but he had to keep telling himself he needed to. 

“Yes,” Jaemin replies in a low voice and then looked back up at his friend’s gorgeous brown eyes, “And then I’ll kiss you. And then I'll fuck you.” 

Jaemin then lets go and the space between them felt amplified in comparison to the proximity they were in before. For some reason, Renjun almost wanted Jaemin to demonstrate.

Renjun jokes, “You’re not going to demonstrate that last part?”

Jaemin laughs, “We can if you want me too.”

Renjun’s mouth gapes and he scolds Jaemin, “I was kidding, my god.”

Jaemin raises a brow at the smaller, “You sure?” 

And that’s when Renjun hits him. And just like that, their little moment was over. For the rest of the time he was lecturing, Renjun tries to be objective as possible, but it was impossible, for he got sidetracked while telling Jaemin about scandals that happens in Jebaek. Jaemin listens intently, reacting to each story. And Renjun gets even deeper into it. Jaemin enjoys this, he notices. He can sit here listening to Renjun rant for days and it'll feel like minutes. 

It was late when they made their long trip back, but neither of them cared. Their clothes were still damp from the salt water of the sea, and there was no light at all except for the light of the stars. As the two boys ride along the dirt path in the darkness, they weren't afraid to have some fun. At some points, Renjun was biking after Jaemin, chasing him with no progress. Other points, they had climbed off their bike altogether and laid on the ground in the middle of nowhere, looking up at the brilliant stars. Anything to slow the time. Anything to take a little bit more memories for themselves. 

~~Day 35. Sex.~~ Done. 

  
  
  


The next day marks 14 days remaining until Jaemin leaves to go back home, and Renjun finds himself panicking a little. He gathers up all the seconds in his arms as if he had dropped them on the ground. Jaemin had finally been able to sleep in Jebaek, but even then, he doesn’t get too much of it, for in the morning he wakes up to help Renjun with the water filtration. And right after that, Renjun takes up all of his time for the rest of the day. He doesn’t mind, but he notices the rushed demeanor. 

Usually, after they finish the morning task, they head back to Renjun or Jaemin’s house to sleep in together until the afternoon, but lately, Huang Renjun hadn’t been wanting to do that. It was as if the more they slept, the more time they were wasting together. That morning, right after they had finished the task and it was still dark outside, Jaemin and Renjun go back to Jaemin’s house, still blanketed in the darkness of early morning. The brown haired man takes off his shirt, which had been drenched with a bit of water from their morning activities, and changes into a new one. 

Afterwards, with Renjun watching from the door frame, Jaemin sits down on the edge of the bed and asks Renjun, “Do you want to sleep in tod-”

Renjun was quick to say no, “No, let’s get our day started. We need to go to the delta.” 

Jaemin goes quiet for a moment. Renjun wonders what he said, but then Jaemin spoke up, “Renjun, don’t you find it a bit ironic?”

“What?” The boy asked, but he thinks that internally, he knew. He knew that his behavior felt visibly rushed, but he couldn’t seem to help feeling as if the hourglass was getting closer and closer to designating the end. 

“When I first got here, I was the one who moved too fast. Who didn’t stop to smell the roses,” Jaemin explains with a dry laugh, “And now it’s you who is doing the same thing.”

Renjun bites his lip and looks over to the side. He is quiet for a moment but then sighs in admittance, “Jaemin, you have 14 days left. It’s been fourteen years since you’ve been back, and now, it’s only fourteen days until you leave again. You can understand why I feel the rush, can’t you?”

Jaemin purses his lips, “You know I don’t care what we do as long as I’m doing it with you, right?” 

Renjun looks up at his friend and then opens his mouth to speak, “But the memori-”

“Forget the memories for today, Jun,” Jaemin says, “Just lay with me.” 

“Just lay with you,” Renjun slowly repeats the word gently on his tongue as he looks up at Jaemin in the pale morning darkness. 

“Yes,” Jaemin confirms, “We can forget time exists and sleep into the evening if we want. Just lay with me.” 

Renjun bites his lip and then lets out a breath he knew he needed to release. Jaemin was right. Here the boy was, ready and open to pull him into his strong arms and lay there forgetting that time exists, and he was going to say no? 

Renjun finally nods, making his way over to his home right between Jaemin’s arms, “Fine.” 

And so Renjun joins him and they lay like that for what seems to be seconds, but was actually hours. The windows and doors were closed shut tightly, so it could have been nighttime for all they knew. Darkness enveloped the room even through the sunny day outside, with the only light coming from an oil lamp situated on the nightstand. Jaemin likes the feel of Renjun’s waist, and Renjun likes the feel of Jaemin’s broad shoulders. So they compromised, laying in a position that gives both parties access to whatever they wanted.

Maybe they knew friends aren’t supposed to cuddle like this. But if they knew that, they kept quiet, scared it would break the blissful ignorance that was getting harder to ignore by the day. They lay together. They talk together. They laugh together, until their stomach actually hurts and Renjun finds himself gasping for air. In this room, it was all theirs. Time flies like the winter wind when Jaemin was with Renjun, and neither of the boys even notice when the sun goes down. Jaemin’s wristwatch lay on the table, unlooked at and uncared for. Renjun asks the heavens to please make the seconds go slower. He needed more time. 

He liked Jaemin. He knows this, but he was starting to feel as if those words weren't enough. Fuck, he didn't just like Jaemin. It was more than that. It was deeper. It was a feeling that filled every inch of his soul with the most soothing satisfaction when things when right and the most painful scars when it goes wrong. It was a feeling that poets speak of, and singers sing of. It was a feeling that Renjun so desperately wanted to hold on to. 

_Fuck_ , Renjun thought to himself, _I want more time._

 _I need more time_.

  
 ~~Day 36. Void.~~ Done.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Renjun lays in his own bed well into the morning the next day. Jebaek, where usually, the skies were sunny and beautiful clouds rolled in accompanied by the blue skies, was dark and gloomy today. It tricked him into sleeping in later than he needed to. It had rained overnight but stopped sometime in the morning, however by the looks of it, it seemed as if it was going to storm later today also. Dark clouds rolled in, filtering through his windows a dark blue hazy light. It had to be 9 in the morning at the earliest, but Renjun stays situated in his bed, covered to his neck in blankets. Jaemin must have done the morning task by this point, and usually about this time, Renjun would have made his way over to the boy’s place ready to start their day. 

But his emotional state of wreck over Jaemin combined with the gloomy weather made him feel immobile in his bed. Renjun wasn’t the type to feel this unsure about his feelings. He had always been a person who never doubted himself or anything about his life. However, Na Jaemin just had to come in and ruin all of that for him.

He wasn’t sure what to feel. Bitter? Maybe. In love? Maybe. He didn't know, but Renjun knew it was more than just a ‘crush.’ A crush wouldn’t make Renjun lose sleep at night. A crush wouldn’t make Renjun look at Jaemin the way he did, as if it was the last time he was ever going to look upon his face. A crush wouldn’t make Renjun’s heart pound the way it did, or make him smile at the smallest things that Jaemin did. A crush wouldn’t hurt this much. 

Na Jaemin, noticing Renjun’s absence from his morning where usually, he would always see the raven haired boy before the sun even rises, takes it upon himself to show up at Renjun’s house. He walks past the carving room and up the stairs and turned to where Renjun’s bedroom was. When he entered, the boy was laying on his bed, body facing the wall away from him. Jaemin smiled and cleared his throat. 

“Slept in today?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun knew that Jaemin was in his room the moment he heard his door open from downstairs, but he hadn’t turned around. Now that he was standing right in his bedroom, Renjun forces himself to pull his body up in a sitting position and turn to face his friend, giving Jaemin a small smile, “Obviously.”

Jaemin shook his head with a grin at the sarcasm, “How ever will I keep entertained without you.”

 _Without you_. Renjun wishes Jaemin wouldn’t say things like that. It makes it more real. He wanted to wince at the wording, but he keeps himself composed sitting there on his bed. He offers a hint of a smile and moves until his legs dangle off the bed. Looking up at his friend, he clears his throat and asks, “So what’s the topic for today?” 

Jaemin was holding his notebook in one hand and twirling his pen in the other, “Food.”

“Food?” Renjun repeats then thinks to himself, “But haven’t you eaten meals enough here that you know what we eat?”

Jaemin nods, “Right, of course. I was talking more about where you get your food from.”

At that, Renjun understands some more. Jaemin comes to sit on the edge of his bed and for the next however long, Renjun lectures Jaemin a little on everything. On which crops they grow, and which they get shipped in from merchants who come in bi-weekly. Jaemin jots down the notes for everything and he listens. Often times they would get distracted, but something would always bring them back on track. 

At some point, Renjun offers him, “We eat fish a lot, since we have so many water systems. I could take you fishing if you want.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow and looks out at the stormy, dark skies, “In this weather?”

Renjun shrugs with a smile, “Why not? Are you afraid of a little rain?”

Jaemin chuckled and then nods, “Let’s go then.”

The two leave Renjun’s house shortly afterwards. Renjun dressed in a white cotton shirt that was probably not a great idea to wear if it was about to rain. Underneath, he wore a pair of regular shorts so that water would not soak up too much fabric on his skin. Jaemin on the other hand, wore a pair of jogger and a black dry fit tee. Renjun had told the man to ditch the joggers, but Jaemin persisted he would be fine. However, as they approach the lake, quite a distance away and undocked a canoe from the marina along with small fishing rods, the water that splashed into the boat as they paddled and soaked onto Jaemin’s pants made him rethink his decision.

They paddle like this until they could see the treeline slightly. Other than that, the two were on windy waters, most likely coming from this storm headed their way. The waters were murky and looked like a mixture of blue and gray. It was as daunting and foreboding as Renjun's emotions. Above, they could occasionally hear thunder, but no rain fell yet. The dark cumulonimbus clouds took over the sky with its dark demeanor and left everything in a dark teal, gray tone. It was still peaceful in a sense, no matter how chaotic it sounded. When they got to the place they wanted to be, they let their canoe float in the middle of the body of water then proceeds to pull out their fishing rods. 

Jaemin and Renjun were both never big fans of fishing, mostly from having no interest, but they were still trying their hardest. It was difficult to catch prey, but regardless they kept trying. He didn’t know how long they had been trying it, but they eventually got tired and set down the rods off to the side of the boat. Instead, they lay on the nose together, legs splayed forward as if neither of them cared about the balance of a canoe. They did what they usually did and talked about anything and everything.

Jaemin tells him about the things that stress him out about the city. The work load he carried sometimes. He goes into story about how he was a recovering energy drink addict, and how at some point, he would forget to drink water. He has sinced moved on to coffee. It was just small details that Jaemin tells him, but Renjun appreciates those the most. It was testament to their relationship, when Jaemin felt comfortable enough to tell him things that seem to be irrelevant. Renjun does the same. He tells Jaemin about people who annoyed him, and how he hates that he has to pretend to like them because of how small the population was. It was not worth it to hate someone who he was going to see for the rest of his life everywhere. He tells Jaemin about the story of one kid back in high school who used to bully him about being small and weak, but then asks him out later. _I don't fucking get that_ , Renjun says frustratedly and Jaemin laughs. They do this for a while, and it was enough time for the thunder to get closer and closer. 

At some point, they settled into a beautiful quiet, for both were mesmerized by the incoming storm. 

With the storm clouds right above them, with their gorgeous grayish blue color and formidable shape, it was a beautiful sight to take in. It looked so powerful. Worthy of worship. Renjun didn’t want this to end.

Jaemin didn’t either. 

So he asked.

“Renjun,” Jaemin says at some point, when their laughter dies down into deep conversations and low-toned whispers to each other while laying parallel. 

Renjun hummed in response, tracing Jaemin’s forearm with his finger. 

Jaemin hesitates. Should he say it? He does, “Would you like me to visit you after I leave?”

Renjun stops in all of his movements and his eyes flicker up to meet Jaemin’s, shocked at the sudden question.

There it was. The golden question.

His hands are frozen and he couldn’t do anything but lay still. Of course he had thought of this before. It had always been an option. In the days of technology, things such as long distance friendships or relationships were possible. He had thought about it _many_ times before. But at the end of the day, his conclusion always led to a ‘ _no.’_ Jaemin had asked this before, when they went to the city. He had asked Renjun if the boy would like to visit him in the city once in a while. Renjun remembered saying ‘ _No. I want to forget you when you leave.”_ So what made the brown haired boy think the answer would be any different for the reverse? 

Renjun whispers out the words, as if he didn’t have enough energy for this conversation, “No.” 

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips, “Why not? Renjun, it doesn’t have to end here.”

“It does,” Renjun affirmed, voice a little pained if one listens for it, “It has to.”

"Why," Jaemin asked, almost demandingly. He didn't understand. 

Renjun parted his lips to speak, but not knowing how to answer without straight up saying _Because you're becoming everything to me, and I don't want to live with having just crumbs of you after this ends._

Before Renjun could answer, Jaemin pursed his lips and sat up slowly, noticing that the rain seemed to be coming in very soon. He could already hear it from the distance as it closes in. He begins paddling back. Renjun gets up and helps. However, as they were doing so, Jaemin speaks, “Jun, I don’t understand you. You don’t want me to leave, but when I do, you don’t want me to come back. What do you even want." 

"I want you to stop asking me these questions," Renjun says, paddling hard. 

Jaemin stops suddenly and looks back with furrowed brows, "Why? This isn't just your friendship, Renjun. This is mine also. And I think I deserve to know why you are so against the idea that we keep trying."

Renjun opens his mouth to reject the notion, but he realizes that Jaemin was right. Friendships were two sided deals, and if the opposite happened, he wasn't sure he'd be very happy either. Renjun bites his lip and looks at his oars as they glided through the water. 

Finally, he says, "You want to know why, then?" 

Jaemin sighs and muscles his way through until they reach the marina, and both of them climb off. Jaemin helps tie the canoe to the pole and then they walk towards the lake's edge. Jaemin answers, "Yes."

Renjun hesitates to speak, afraid that his words would come out a little too obvious of his feelings, “When you leave, you’re going to be busy with your life. You're going to have so many things to do that it'll be easy for you. It'll be easy for you to move forward. You got your future. You got your job. You got your millions of friends and people and lovers and places to go, things to do."

He pauses, then continues, “But me? I’m going to be right here. In Jebaek. I’m going to be waking up early every morning to change the water filtration system. After that, I’ll run tasks all throughout the day. Maybe I’ll work on a carving that a client asked for. Maybe I’ll chat up some friends. And in the evening, I’ll sit in my fields until I feel tired enough to go to sleep. And that’s okay. I like living like this...it’s fine living like this,” Renjun says, voice quiet as he continues, “But we have two different lives, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to burden yourself by visiting your old friend you left behind in Jebaek when your life has so much to it. You may want to at first. Visit me, I mean. But as your life gets more busy, and as you begin to get used to city life again…,” Renjun pauses, “Coming to visit will feel like a burden.”

Jaemin thinks on Renjun’s words and they leave a sad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he wants to argue, “Renjun, if that’s not the dumbest shit I’ve ev-”

“And besides,” Renjun interrupts forcefully, voice now visibly pained, “Maybe the first time you visit, we’ll have a lot to say to each other. Maybe you’ll catch me up on whatever is happening, and I tell you about my days. We’ll have a lot to say because I’m fresh on your mind. But how about the subsequent times after that? The second time you visit, will you care the same? The third? The fourth? Will you remember how it feels to be with me? Will it be awkward?"

Renjun does not even give Jaemin another chance to speak and he continues, "The first time you visit, it might be a week after you come back, Jaemin. I'm fresh on your mind. The second time, three weeks. 'I've been busy', you’ll say to me. The third time, two months later. 'Oh, I've had so much work to do,' you’ll say. The fourth time, six months. 'Work's been piling up,' you'll explain to me.The fifth time you visit? A year after." He pauses, "Jaemin, I don’t want to be around to see the day where you come back to visit me, and we stand in front of each other silently, not knowing what to say, and you have to ask me, ‘Renjun. How have you been? It’s been a while.’”

Nothing hurt more than those words. _It's been a while_. Because it implies that somewhere along the way, sometime down the road, someone or both people had given up on trying to communicate. On trying to make it work. 

The words hurt Renjun to say, but he continues, “I don’t want there to be a day where I have to hear you ask me “How are you?” or “Do you have a husband yet? What’s his name? How about kids? How old are they?” I don’t ever want to be in a situation where I get to wonder what could have been.”

Jaemin purses his lips and stops. They were right at the line of trees that bordered the lake. Turning to face his friend, “You are being unfair, Renjun. You know that?” 

Renjun stays quiet. 

“You say that you don’t want to wonder ‘what could have been,’ but have you ever thought that you might also wonder what could have been if you just let what we have continue?"

Renjun interrupts him, "What we _have_? Jaemin, look at what we have and tell me if you can put a name to it. I don't even know what to call what we have. Hell, _you_ don't even know what to call what we have."

Jaemin lets out a breath and looks off to the side frustratingly, "Renjun. Stop interrupting me. I'm telling you, aren't you going to fucking wonder what could have been if you let us continue? If you let me do something as simple as come visit you?"

"No," Renjun says, "Because I know what will happen. You're going to slowly lose the will to do it. To see me. And I'm going to still be here, waiting. And wondering when the next time you'll come by. Will it be a week? Will it be a month? Will it be a year? I'm not going to put myself through that, Jaemin. I'm not." Renjun says this firmly as possible.

"Maybe you’re right, Jun,” Jaemin laughs with no humor in his voice, “Maybe me trying to make our...friendship, whatever the fuck it is, work after I leave will end horribly. But is that worse to you than us completely forgetting all of this when it ends? As if it never happened at all? After you change the way I look at the world and the way I act, live, and breath in just, what, 37 days? After you let me hold you like I’ve been doing all day? After all of _this,_ ” He gestures to the two of them. 

Renjun bites his tongue and gives his honest answer. He was beginning to feel the occasional prick of rain on his skin. Very slight, but there. He lets out a "Yes. It _is_ worth it."

Jaemin scoffs, “I don't understand. You’re so afraid of endings, Renjun. So why are you not afraid of this one.”

Renjun says, voice cracking a little this time, “I rather have an abrupt ending than a slow and drawn out one, don't you get it? I rather have an ending on the 50th day than an ending who knows how far into the future after weeks, months, maybe years of thinking about you, wondering what you are doing in the city, when you’re going to come back to visit, wondering if you’re thinking about me too. I love Jebaek, Jaemin. I love this place, but I can't continue to love it if every single place is ridden with the memory of you. I need to forge-"

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think, Renjun?" Jaemin laughs dryly as he tongues his cheek in frustration.

Renjun takes a deep breath, upset, but he continues, “I don’t want to be that person you think about when you’re off doing something successful and say to yourself ‘poor kid, I guess I’ll go visit him.’ I don’t want to become a charity case, Jaemin.”

Jaemin looks at him as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard come out of someone’s mouth and begins laughing. Renjun gives him a confused look but waits for Jaemin to speak. 

He began to hear the first sounds of slightly heavier rain after minutes of slight sprinkling and the two stand on the grass underneath a small canopy of trees. It was still not enough to really soak them quickly. It took a few minutes or so. To their left was the lake. There was no escaping it, so both men just accepted the rain as it came down. 

Jaemin looks up at the sky and closes his eyes, letting the rain slide down his skin and onto his clothes, and then he looks down and over to Renjun for a moment, not saying anything. He doesn’t speak just yet, but when he does, the brown hair boy's voice was dripping with a mixture of spite and hurt, “Do you really think I think so lowly of you?” 

Renjun stays quiet and lets water drop from pieces of his hair. 

Jaemin then looks back to Renjun and there was nothing in his voice except pure truth, “I came here 37 days ago, Renjun, so that I could work on my thesis. I didn’t care about Jebaek. I didn’t care about its people. I didn’t care about you. I cared about how many people matriculated to college. I cared about what percentage of the population worked in agriculture. But Renjun…”  
He didn’t bother to hold his tongue, “You storm into my life like a fucking hurricane, destructive and powerful. You, with your strong stance on Jebaek. You, with your adventures and stories and laughter. You, with your goddamn vendetta to prove to me that Jebaek is a place worth remembering, with places and people worth loving. You, as beautiful as you are, as charismatic as you are. You’ve completely changed me, and now you expect me to toss you aside like you were just someone to keep me company while I’m here?” And when Jaemin says his next words, Renjun heard nothing else but pure pain, “Why won’t you just give us a chance?” 

Renjun looked up at his friend with eyes that shined with the light of a thousand suns, but lips that pursed themselves as if guarded. Renjun didn’t want to say it. He didn’t. He could die with his secret, but hearing the pain in Jaemin’s voice, he knew that he had to. 

Renjun’s voice came out staggered, but his words held as much meaning as he could possibly have mustered in them, “Because I don’t want to be the fool pathetically in love and waiting for a boy whose life I can only be a small part of.” 

And then silence. The rain had gotten harder, and its pattering on the surface of their skin made small pelts of sound that could have been noticed if only both men weren’t completely stunned by Renjun’s confession. Completely and absolutely stunned. Despite the sound of the rain, the silence felt deafening, and the more time that dragged between his words and now, the faster Renjun’s heart drummed in his chest. He looked at Jaemin through his lashes, which were clouded with rain drops, and for all of Renjun’s talk of being able to read people, he was unable to ever read Jaemin. The man had won. They were well over halfway to the end, and Renjun still could not figure out Jaemin fully. Especially now. Jaemin stood rigidly, and did not take his eyes off of Renjun for a single second, and it made the raven haired boy even more nervous. 

_Pathetically in love_. Renjun rethinks on his words. No other way to describe it than that. It felt so wrong and right on his tongue at the same time. Wrong because it felt awful. It felt awful to finally come to terms with it. It felt awful to be blinded by someone who was going to leave. To have his heart given over to someone who had more important things to do and people to see than him. It felt awful to feel so pathetic when he obsesses over the time, for he's afraid of how much they have left.

But the words. They also felt so right because he had been beating around the bush with himself on what to call his feelings for Jaemin. “Like” was too simple and naive of a word. But ‘Love’ always felt too strong, for such a short time. But when Renjun thinks about it, what else would describe the absolutely heart wrenching feeling when he thinks about his time ending with Jaemin. What else would describe the way everything felt like it was going to be okay when he was laying in Jaemin’s arms. What else would describe the feeling of wanting to give up everything he has just to hear that laugh one more time, to see that smile, to touch that face. What else would describe how he felt when Jaemin read that entire book in one night just so he could take care of Renjun. 

But now he stands there, heart on his sleeve and not ready to have it crushed. Jaemin's silence made him want to tremble, and he could barely look into Jaemin's face, with the man's drawn eyebrows and slightly parted lips. Maybe it was raining for a reason. Maybe the heavens were crying for him. 

Sick of the silence, Renjun spoke up through the rain, softly but still audible, “Do you remember that one day, when we were walking home from the waterfall, and you told me that I seem to always know what people are thinking?”

Jaemin was in a state where he could barely think. But this was a simple enough question. He took a moment, but then he found his voice, hair soaked and speaking through the rain, “Yeah.”

Renjun felt bitter. He could answer that question, but Jaemin couldn't provide an answer for his revelation? Maybe that silence from before had really been the answer. Renjun’s voice then came out a little cracked, “I had said it was a gift. And do you remember what you said afterwards?”

Jaemin stayed quiet. He remembers, but he doesn’t say it. He knows what Renjun was hinting at. 

So Renjun answers for him, “You said that it was also a curse. And that one day, maybe I won’t want to know what people are thinking.” 

Silence. The wind was howling, and the rain was blowing heavier than ever. Although it was still visibly daylight, it felt so dark due to the haze of the storm clouds. 

Renjun’s words find it hard to reach his lips but he says them anyways, “I think that day has come, Jaemin. I think…” He says as he stumbles backwards a little bit, putting some distance between him and Jaemin, “...I think that I don’t want to know anymore…” His voice gets quieter as he makes a move to leave, voice dejected and body feeling as if all the energy had been sucked out of it, “I think I’m better off not knowing…” 

He turns and he staggers away slowly, as if he was carrying chains that he had to drag by his ankles. Even as the stinging rain pours down on him, he doesn’t feel any of it. He was depleted of energy, and all he wanted right now was to be in his room, surrounded by blankets and sleep away his pain. He doesn’t let himself cry, because Renjun does not cry. He had been vulnerable enough today, and he refused to cry. 

Heartbreak. Was this Round 1? Was this round 1 of Renjun's journey of shattering his heart into pieces? He knows another round will be coming, on the 50th day, but my god, Renjun dryly laughs to himself, did this come a bit earlier than expected. He barely feels his body as he carries himself away, dejected. It hurt. He was going to go home. He was going to change out of these wet clothes. He was going to lock his doors for the first time. He was going to stay in his room, in his bed, until he feels like he was okay again to leave. Maybe that will be a day. He doubts it. Maybe that will be a week. He doubts that too. But he walks off. 

Renjun had to have been a couple meters away when Jaemin spoke up, still rooted in his spot back near the treeline of the lake. Na Jaemin spoke up through the rain and anyone could have missed it. Renjun could have missed it easily over the sound of the whistling wind and rambunctious rain, but he hears the sudden question quite clearly. 

“Renjun, do you like the rain?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun slow down to a stop, suddenly confused by such a sudden question, and wonders if he should turn around. The question was so sudden, so out of no where, that even though hurt, he was curious. So he did. He turned around and gave Jaemin a confused look. He could have ignored the comment, but it had been so strange and out of nowhere that Renjun couldn’t help it. 

He looks back at his friend, who stood leaning on one leg. His shirt was soaked with water and he could see the outline of his body with it. Brown hair was matted to his forehead. Even rain soaked, Na Jaemin was undeniably handsome. It made Renjun's heart ache more. The man's face looked unreadable. 

Renjun answers, voice confused but still laced with a hint of residual pain, “What?” 

Jaemin repeats himself, voice sure this time, “I asked, do you like the rain?”

Renjun weakly throws his hands in the air, “No.”

 _Not today, at least,_ Renjun thinks to himself. 

“Yes you do,” Jaemin affirms. 

Renjun narrows his eyes at that. It slightly reminded him of conversations they had in the past. However, he wasn’t sure which ones. It was hard to pinpoint. But there was something about the way Jaemin had said ‘ _do you like the rain_ ’ that seemed to mirror words they had said to each other before. And the way Jaemin affirmed the _‘yes you do’_ that made Renjun feel as if Jaemin knew something he didn’t. It was odd, but Renjun sensed familiarity. 

“What the hell do you me-” Renjun began, but before he could finish, Na Jaemin interrupted. 

Jaemin interrupted while moving his legs forward, almost quickly as if he needed to get to Renjun _now_. Jaemin says, “I can't make you remember. But I'll give you a reason. I'll give you a reason for why you like the rain.” 

And that’s when it clicked. The familiarly. It was the words that Renjun always said to Jaemin when he wanted to show the boy something, except now it was reversed. _Do you like waterfalls. Do you like abandoned trains. Do you like grottos._ He grasped the familiarity now, but Renjun wonders. When he says things like that, it was always because he wanted to show Jaemin something. Prove a point. Let him experience something. 

But what was Jaemin trying to show him now? Renjun asked himself this. 

It turns out, he didn’t need to wonder for too long, for he finds out as soon as Na Jaemin makes his way over, cutting through the rain and closing the distance between them quickly step by step until Jaemin stands right in front of him. It all happens so quickly, and was hard to register.

And Renjun does not even manage to get out a “ _Wha-”_ before the hands he had been longing to feel every single day reaches up to cup his face, and before he could understand what was happening, Jaemin had leaned down to kiss him. 

Jaemin. Na Jaemin. The brown haired boy from Seoul that haunts his dreams had leaned down to kiss him. Renjun stood there shocked. Was this happening? All of his senses suddenly became heightened. The sound of the rain louder than ever. The sweet smell of Jaemin’s cologne more fragrant than before. The feeling of Jaemin’s lips pressed up, not too gently but not too rough, against his own. But most of all, the taste. The taste of Na Jaemin’s lips. This time, with no pretenses of a bar competition. No false feelings. No influence of drugs to blame. This time, there was nothing to hide. 

He wasn't sure what to do. He was utterly shocked. What the fuck did this mean? What was this going to do to them? Why did Jaemin do this? Is this happening. Or was he making this all up in his head. But as he feels the strong hands that he had grown to know so well cupping his face, he knows this is real. As he smells the scent he dreams of when he lays in bed at night, he knows. This is real. 

Suddenly, Renjun likes the rain. He likes it a lot. He closes his eyes and finally moves with Jaemin, melting into the boy’s kiss as if he had always meant to taste them. Jaemin’s hands move down to his waist to pull him close, as he deepens their kiss and Renjun brings his hands up to Jaemin’s broad shoulders. It didn’t matter that the kiss was mixed with rain, or that both parties were soaked from head to toe. 

What mattered was now. Now. Jaemin was kissing him _now_. Jaemin had come to him _now_. Jaemin was in his hands, in his embrace, _now_. Renjun’s mind went blank of everything else. He couldn’t think what was happening. Why this was happening. How this was happening. He just knew that it _was_ _happening._

Jaemin’s hold was formidable. The white fabric of Renjun’s shirt clung to his skin, and Jaemin grabbed at his waist as if Renjun would disappear if he let go of his hold. His hands kneaded into the smaller’s back and waist, wanting to meld their bodies together so that they never have to leave.

"Jaemi-" Renjun barely gets out.

Na Jaemin interrupts, "Stop." He said while his forehead leaned against the other, "Stop thinking." 

Renjun didn’t say anything. He just took the kisses and touches when Jaemin leans down again, pulling him close and giving him the world through his lips. He felt his heart breaking and building and breaking and building, and he could not handle the mix of emotions. Jaemin had just made it so much worse. He had made it _so_ much worse, because how the hell was he supposed to let Jaemin leave now? But at the same time, this euphoria was a flood to his drought. And Renjun couldn't pull away. 

He doesn’t know how or when they got back to Jebaek, especially through the thick rain that made it impossible to see anything, but the moment they got to Renjun’s house, just as the entered the door, soaking wet with rain water dripping from their clothes and hair, Jaemin was back on Renjun’s lips. It was an ecstasy he didn’t know he could get naturally, and he couldn’t get enough. Weeks and weeks of buildup. Of gentle touches from the smaller. Of sweet words. Of stares that shouldn’t have been as obvious as they were. And now, Jaemin gets to kiss Renjun. Gets to touch him like this. Gets to hold him like this. 

They stumble up the stairs, and even when Jaemin had Renjun pressed up against the wall, Renjun did not complain for a second. 

It was when they got in the bedroom that Renjun forces himself to pull away, gasping for air. He stands from a distance and look at Jaemin. Lips slick with both rain and Renjun’s own saliva. Thunder outside sounded the entire village. Rain pattered against his closed window and on top of his roof. 

There, they change out of their wet clothes and into dry ones. This time, neither of them bothered to change in a separate room. Instead, they both change right there, in front of each other. It was a strange moment, but one that spoke deeply. Seeing Renjun naked was stunning, and he confirms that no one could ever reach the beauty that was Huang Renjun. It was art. His skin. His curves. Every inch of his body. Renjun couldn’t help but feel the same as he watches Jaemin slides out of everything. _Everything_. And slips on new clothes. He had the body of a greek god, and every centimeter of said body felt like his. Felt like Renjun’s, to feast with his own eyes. 

When they changed into dry clothes, the rain was still as heavy as it was before and engulfed the room in that dark teal-blue haze. Jaemin climbs into bed first, and Renjun doesn’t hesitate for a moment to huddle up next to him. Except now, neither of them need to be confined by the tension of _wanting_ . The tension of wanting to touch one another. Kiss each other. So they lay there for a while, giving gentle kisses. And then some not so gentle ones. Renjun was in bliss, and he could barely believe this was happening. It felt so _intimate._ So _raw_. 

At some point, they take a break from all of the kissing, and Renjun just lays there silently on Jaemin’s chest, feeling the beating of the boy’s heart. Jaemin has an arm protectively around his shoulder. It was quiet. It was peaceful. And they enjoy this silence for a long time. 

But finally, after so long, Renjun speaks and his words come out soft, “I hate you.”

Jaemin laughs gently, “No you don’t.” 

Renjun whispers then, “Why did you do this?” 

Jaemin purses his lips and then in a moment, he answers, “Didn’t you want me to?”

 _Was that the only reason?_ Renjun thought. Because Jaemin felt as if Renjun wanted him to? That couldn’t have been the reason. The kiss was too real, too intimate for that to have been the reason. 

He was quiet again for a moment or so, afraid of asking his next question, but Renjun does so anyways, voice hesitant, “Jaemin…”

The boy hums in response. 

And so Renjun asks, cautious of every word, “Does this mean you love me?” 

Jaemin stops tapping and a silence settles between them once more as the words of Renjun’s question sinks in. Renjun should not have asked. He should have stuck with his word and refuse to let himself want to know. But he had to. He waits. And waits. And waits. 

So Renjun asks again, aware of how pathetic he sounded when his voice comes out quiet, "Do you love me?"

He was met again with more silence and if he wasn't laying on top of Jaemin's chest, then he would have winced and curled himself together to shield from the pain as the seconds drag on. 

Finally, Jaemin answers, tone so caring that Renjun wanted to hate him for it, “I don’t know if I love you. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure exactly how to recognize that. But…” He pauses, “I _do_ know that I like being around you. I know that I like hearing your voice. I know I like holding you and sleeping next to you. I know I want to kiss you all the time. I know that everything feels wrong when I'm not doing it with you” 

Oh, Renjun thought to himself. _Like_. It causes an unsettling feeling in his stomach, but he ignores it when thinking that it was better than nothing at all. At least it wasn’t completely unreciprocated, he thought. But even then, Renjun knew: there was a distinct difference between love and like. He wonders if that was because Jaemin was from the city, where real love was hard to find. Where feelings were always masked in false pretenses of strength and aloofness. But if Renjun thinks that was the case, then he does not say it, afraid of invalidating Jaemin’s feelings just so his own felt less sad. 

_I don’t know if I love you._ Renjun tries not to make those words feel as stinging as they do, but he admits it’s a little harder said than done. He needed to be mature. They were not high schoolers or teenagers anymore. They were both adults, who needed to be able to handle their emotions well. 

Renjun swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded into Jaemin’s chest, “Oh.”

Jaemin notices the disappointment in Renjun’s voice and he feels a blooming sadness in his chest. He reaches down to make Renjun look at him and lands a gentle kiss on Renjun’s lips, “Renjun. Hey, hey," He reaches down and Renjun tears his hand away, hating that it almost felt like pity on Jaemin's part, "Don’t be upset. I-”

“I can’t make you love me if you don’t, I know that,” Renjun says, looking up at his friend with crystal eyes, “I’m not upset. Don’t worry.” His voice trailed off at the end and he lays his head back down on Jaemin’s chest.

Jaemin felt as if that wasn’t the truth, but he lets it go. He just pulls Renjun tighter into his arms and wishes the boy will never leave. He disliked how Renjun worded it. _I can't make you love me if you don't_. Who said he doesn't. Jaemin had just said that he might have. That he was confused. That he doesn't know the difference. However, as he hears the pain it causes in Renjun's voice, it was like he feels it too. Did just simply liking someone cause his feeling? He heard a quote once, and it was something along the lines of: "When you wonder if you love someone or not, let them go. The pain you feel will be your answer."

But maybe Jaemin doesn't want to find out just yet. Because he was too selfish. He was too selfish to let Renjun go. And so he holds his friend tighter. 

It takes another moment, but Renjun speaks again, “Jaemin."

The man hums in acknowledgement.

"I hope you know that this…” Renjun gestures to the two of them, “doesn’t change my mind. If anything, it just make me more firm about it.”

Jaemin looks down at him, “What do you mean?”

Renjun bites his tongue but makes himself speak, “I don't change my mind. About what happens to us after you leave."

Jaemin holds his left fist together and closes his eyes. His next words were staggered, as if he needed Renjun to change his mind, "You don't." It was not a question, more of a statement of incredulity.

"No," Renjun says and continues softly, "You’re not visiting me after you leave. And I’m not visiting you. I’m not going to write to you."

He hesitates but continues, "I’m not going to think of you. I’m not going to go the places we went to. If anyone asks me about you, I'm going to say I forgot."

And then Renjun speaks, "And hopefully, in another fourteen years, maybe it'll actually be true. Maybe I'll actually forget you.” 

Jaemin clenches his jaw, wanting nothing more than to argue and fight his way through Renjun’s mind. But he doesn’t. He knows. He knows that Renjun was stubborn. That he was unwavering, and just from the smaller’s tone alone, Renjun was not going to budge. It did not settle well in his chest, and Jaemin felt a sense of incoming doom. He felt as if he needed to keep Renjun here in this room forever, so that their end may never come. 

He closes his eyes and leans down to smell the pretty scent of Renjun’s hair, wondering how many more times he will get to do this. He encloses Renjun in his arms, wondering how many more times he will get to feel this.

Jaemin gives in reluctantly, accepting that Renjun had made up his mind, “Fuck, Renjun."

Renjun barely gives a smile, and it was clear pain was etched onto it.

But then Jaemin sighs, bringing one hand up to rub the stress out of his face, "If that’s what you want then I know I can’t stop you.”

Renjun listens and takes a moment. So that was that. 

He breathes out a gentle, “These last 13 days are going to be painful, Nana.”

Jaemin purses his lips, looking up at the ceiling and then fixes his gaze down to his friend, “Maybe, but promise me this Renjun, if nothing else.”

Renjun looks up, “What is it?” He asks softly. 

Jaemin runs a thumb across the beautiful boy’s face. How many more times does he get to look upon his face. The question makes him feel heavy in his chest, “Let me make these next 13 days the most beautiful pain you’ve ever felt then, Renjun. Don’t run away from me.”

Renjun, shocked by the wording, stares at his friend. Most beautiful pain he had ever felt. Were those the words that described it? Beautiful? Pain? Two words that seemed to be oxymorons, yet placed together so right. It sounds odd initially, but he thinks about it. How else would it be described. It will be a pain that will crawl within the crevices of his soul and break it into shards until it splinters the very essence of his being. It will be a pain that makes the rain feel like daggers on his skin, for it will remind him of Jaemin’s kiss. It will be a pain that makes the most beautiful sights of Jebaek a sore to his eyes to look upon, for it will remind him of Jaemin’s company. It will be a pain laced with the beauty of their time together and the bittersweetness of their goodbyes.

Renjun could say no. He could say no very easily, for there was no consequences of not obliging. But he looks at Jaemin, looks at those captivating eyes and knows that it was too late. 

He says, “I promise.”

  
  
  
  


Jaemin keeps his end of the deal. He makes the next 13 days the most _beautiful_ pain Renjun had ever felt. 

Day 38. Renjun takes Jaemin to the next village over, just two hours bike ride away. Renjun claims that this village, one larger than Jebaek, was where they used to run off too once in a while when their parents allowed it to get chocolate from the closest chocolate shop in the vicinity. Jaemin remembers. But he doesn’t actually care about the memory. He cares more about how they ran around the chocolate shop trying out samples as if they were kids again. He cares more about how Renjun giggles as he tries to lick the chocolate off of his own lips. Jaemin does it for him. It had been a little strange at first, when they wake up and Renjun remembers all that had happened the day before. It makes him shy, but when Jaemin makes him remember how sweet this pain could be through a soft morning kiss, Renjun forgets all of it and decides that he was going to do what he said, and give in. 

It was like being able to kiss Renjun opened up an entire world for him. One in which he could get lost in Renjun’s sweet, sweet lips forever. Get lost in the flavor of childhood, adulthood, and all the bittersweet yet beautiful feelings in between.

Jaemin kisses Renjun everywhere. At every place. On day 39, he kisses Renjun underneath the stars as the boy was lecturing him on the raggedy old bench on the field about beauty standards in Jebaek. Of course, he had been listening to what Renjun was saying, but he finds it all dismissible for the only beauty standard that Jaemin cared about now was Renjun’s eyes, Renjun’s lips, Renjun’s skin, Renjun’s nose, Renjun’s _everything_. It was only when Renjun stopped talking and stared right back at him that Jaemin realized he wasn’t hiding how obviously stunned by Renjun he was.

He decides that he shouldn’t try to explain himself through words. He’ll explain himself through action, so he leans over, one hand cupping the smaller’s face and takes Renjun’s soft lips onto his own. What a feeling this was. He couldn’t get enough. Especially not when Renjun moves with him, matching his pace as if they were perfect matches for each other in this weird game of fate. 

On Day 40, he kisses Renjun while spelunking in the mountains somewhere. It had been dark and cold in the cave, but nothing felt more warm then Renjun by his side, indulging him in silly conversations and company that could not have been matched. It was when the smaller’s hands brushed up against his as they were walking that Jaemin smiles to himself and pulls Renjun off to the side, scooping the man up in his arms to get into a deep kiss. One that filled every one of Jaemin’s senses with the essence of Huang Renjun. 

Renjun laughs in between the kisses, “You have no patience.” 

Jaemin chuckles and goes in for another one, “I can’t help it. I’m addicted.”

Renjun doesn’t tell him that he was addicted to. He didn’t need to. Jaemin could tell. He could tell by the way the smaller buries his fingers through Jaemin’s hair as they make out, as if he needed more. He could tell by the way Renjun’s body reacts. The sighs. The bites. The way he molds their bodies together. Renjun did not know why he was allowing this to happen. It does not help his case. Not in the slightest. With every kiss, he loves a little more. With every adventure, every word, every touch, every smile, he loves a little more. 

On Day 41, he kisses Renjun as they lay in Jaemin’s room, cuddled in his blankets as Renjun _tries_ to lecture the brown haired boy on the topic of taboos in Jebaek. The key word was that he was trying to. It was hard to tell Jaemin about the stigma against public promiscuity when the city slicker had his body on top of Renjun, face buried in Renjun’s neck as he lands kisses up and down the nape, biting and sucking a little so that it leaves a trail of marks. Renjun tries lecturing with suppressed moans, and gives himself credit for trying. It was hard to tell Jaemin about the taboo of dating people with the same last name as you, even if you weren’t related to them, when he was sitting on the man’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist and Jaemin stared at him with such intensity while his hands rubbed circles around Renjun’s hip. Later that day, to demonstrate more taboos, Renjun and Jaemin dig out a poke and stick kit for tattoos. Jaemin thinks it was ridiculous, but seeing the mischievous smile on his friend’s face, he gives in and agrees to do it. They laugh about a million times during the whole interaction and get sidetracked so much that at times, they forget what they were about to do. It was in little moments like that when Renjun is reminded all over again why he loved this boy. 

In the end, they ended up getting a matching single dot on the inside of their forearm. The dot was so small that it could easily been mistaken as a freckle or a mole. In fact, if anyone had seen it, their first thought would definitely be that it was a freckle or skin blemish. However, it was a secret little tattoo between them. Nothing too drastic and regrettable like each other’s names. But it still had the power of being a little memorabilia of their time together. Renjun wasn’t sure he wanted that after all this ends, but he gets it done anyways. 

They spend the rest of the evening with each other, cuddling in bed filled with kisses and sweet words and thoughtful conversation until it was time for Renjun to leave. And when that time comes, Jaemin finds it hard letting go. 

~~Day 41. Taboos.~~ Done. 

Day 42. Day 43. Day 44. All of them passed in a similar way. Too fast for their liking, but filled with memories that was making it harder and harder for the both of them in a variety of ways. It was getting harder for Renjun to calm his love, for it seemed as if every day comes another reason to love Na Jaemin. It was getting harder for Jaemin to distinguish his own emotions, for the more time he spends with Renjun, the less sure he felt about _just_ liking the other. It was getting harder for the both of them in general to control themselves. It seemed as if everywhere, Jaemin was kissing him, touching him, holding him. No matter what time of day. No matter where they were. They could be running to the ice cream parlour, and Jaemin would pull Renjun off to the side behind a building to land a sweet but deep kiss on the boy’s lips. They could be in the middle of a lecture and Renjun would stop in his words all of a sudden and climb onto Jaemin’s lap before giving in to Jaemin’s stare with a kiss. Even beyond that, it was getting harder to control the stares, the hours of conversations they would have, the amount of times Jaemin would make the walk to Renjun’s field to take more time, the feelings, the emotions, the absolute ecstasy of being with each other. They didn’t put a label on it. They weren’t sure they’d be able to, even if they tried. 

Day 45. Renjun tries to forget that they only have 5 days left. In the morning, when Jaemin goes off to do his task but he still lays in bed awake, he can’t help but think about it. Think of how in less than a week, this will all be gone. Like a fever dream. The thought makes him panic and so Renjun forces it in the back of his mind and thinks of other things while he waits for Jaemin to come back into the room.

The topic this day was religion. And after Renjun finishes his errands for the day, he has Jaemin follow him. They venture into the mountains, and Renjun’s legs take him on a path he hadn’t been down in a while. He goes about once or twice every year to the temple, due to his parent’s beckoning. But other than that, Renjun had never been the deeply religious type. 

Sunlight streamed through the trees, and amplified every green hue. Jaemin walked side by side with his friend, taking their time as Renjun goes ahead and explains religion in Jebaek. Jaemin pays attention while Renjun talks, jotting down notes as they walk. He enjoys it when Renjun talks. He had thought this before in the past, but everytime the boy speaks, he is reminded of it. It was honey to his ears, sweet and soft like a song. That melodic laugh. 

Renjun had been explaining the majority Buddhist customs of Jebaek, and Jaemin couldn’t help himself but focus more on the way he talks.

Suddenly, Renjun asks him out of curiosity, “Do you have a religion, Jaemin?” 

Jaemin must have been thinking too hard about his friend’s pretty voice, because before he knew what he was saying, Jaemin had let it slip, “Your voice.” 

Renjun stopped and looked over at Jaemin with a slightly parted mouth, not knowing where that suddenly came from, “Excuse me?” 

Jaemin was not even sure what to say himself. He did not know what made him feel the need to let that slip, but it was too late to take it back now. So Jaemin just admits it again, “Your voice.”

He looks over at Renjun, whose eyes slightly widened at the blasphemous but oh so flattering statement. Jaemin continues, “Your smile.”

Renjun then tries to hide his smile, so that it didn’t look like he was doing it on purpose after Jaemin said so. The brown haired boy found the action cute and took a step in Renjun’s direction. He continued, noticing the way the sunlight filtering in through the canopy casted shadows of leaves onto his friend’s pretty face, “Your face.”

He takes a step closer and thumbs Renjun’s cheek with his finger before leaning in closer to press a gentle kiss onto the boy’s cheek. The ghost of it cause shivers to run down the smaller’s spine. Jaemin felt it and he grinned, “The way you think about things.”

His hand falls down to Renjun’s waist and he leans in closer until Renjun takes a step backwards and his back was against the trunk of a maple tree. Renjun’s brain was still not used to this. Not used to Jaemin kissing him, touching him, being like this with him in an unashamed manner. It was as if he was getting a free trial, when he wanted the full package. 

Jaemin continued, “Your adventurous spirit.” Jaemin smiles as he says this, mind tracking to the many strange but beautiful adventures that Renjun had taken him on. Adventures that will never leave his thoughts. 

Jaemin then gently pushes Renjun against the trunk of the tree and runs his lips too not softly down Renjun’s neck down to his collarbone, and the smaller lets out a gasp underneath. Jaemin mumbles through his kisses, “Your body. All of those…” He pulls Renjun closer while moving his lips harder, “...are my religion.” 

Renjun doesn’t want it to stop. He closes his eyes and thinks about nothing but sin. But then he gently shoves Jaemin off, and the taller moves back, stepping backwards with a knowing smirk on his face and fire in his eyes. 

Renjun could barely let out his words, “Jaemin, not in front of the temple.” And then he gestures over in the Eastern direction, behind a grove of trees. Jaemin looked over and finally sees the temple through the thicket. Curved corners in the traditional Asian style architecture. Carved wooden panels that lined the entrances and window panes. Incense burning from the mouths of dragon statues. 

“Ah,” Jaemin notices, pursing his lips, “Right.”

Renjun laughs and shakes his head at the boy before walking in front of him, and then turns around with a curious and almost hopeful smile, “Are you sure you don’t love me?” 

Jaemin pauses, then laughs lightly, head looking over to the side before back at Renjun, “Maybe I’m not.”

Renjun rolls his eyes at the false hope he was being given, and then reaches out to grab Jaemin’s hands on his way forward. If it was one thing that he was grateful for in regards to their new improvement, it was that he could hold Jaemin’s hand in the way he wanted whenever he wanted to now. 

They spend their evening wandering around the perimeters of the temple like that. Renjun teaching things about Jebaek’s form of Buddhism that Jaemin didn’t know before. Jaemin teaching Renjun things about falling in love that Renjun never experienced before. It was in the way the boy listened to him, as if he was the only one in the world that mattered. In the way the boy held his fingers in his own, as if one touch could cure a thousand souls. Renjun, when he was with Jaemin, tried not to think about the fact that he was leaving in five days. If he did, it would ruin the moment. So he tears that off his mind, and instead, focuses on what it felt like to be Jaemin’s. Or at least, what it felt like to be _partially_ Jaemin’s. 

Later that night, when Renjun goes to his field, Jaemin joins him. The smaller sits between Jaemin’s legs and they relax there on the crooked bench, looking out onto the stalks of yellow corn. In letting Jaemin come here, it felt as if he had finally opened up the last part of himself that he had been trying to safeguard. It felt like surrender. But if surrender could feel this sweet, this good, then Renjun would have given in a long time ago. The only thing holding him back now was the thought that surrender will take its revenge later. Later. Usually, later does not have a set date. It does not have a set time. But Renjun knows when ‘later’ is. Later is in 5 days. And in a couple hours, when the clock strikes midnight, later will be in 4 days. 

As he sits there, splayed out in between his friend’s strong legs with Jaemin holding his waist and nose buried in Renjun’s scented hair, after a long while of random conversation, Renjun looks up to his love interest and asks in a half joking, half serious manner, “Jaemin.”

“Hm?”

“You say I’m your religion right?” Renjun prefaces, light heartedly referencing to the comment made earlier. 

Jaemin chuckles, “Yeah?”

Renjun pokes fun at him, but he was partially serious, “Worship me then. Stay.” 

Jaemin ruffles Renjun’s soft black hair and he answers in the same playful tone, yet with a hint of bitterness, “You know I can’t.”

“I know,” Renjun laughs dryly, wishing his voice showed that he was taking his well, “Didn’t hurt to ask.”

Jaemin gives a comforting smile and rests his chin on Renjun’s head in their position, “I think it does, Jun.”

“It does what?” Renjun asks for some clarification. 

“Hurt to ask,” Jaemin says before repeating himself, “I think it does hurt to ask.”

~~Day 45. Religion.~~ Done. 

  
  
  


Day 46. Renjun stares at the number on the list he had pinned to his cork board. Every time Jaemin comes over, he takes it down and hides it in his drawer. But Jaemin was not here now. No one was, except for himself. So he allows himself to stare at it. His head has to tilt downwards from the sheer length of the stapled paper. They were nearing the end of the list, and he knows he only has 4 days left with the man he loved. 

He always talked so much about hating how city people focused on time. Yet here he was, being a hypocrite. He was _so_ worried about time that he could practically hear the ticking of a clock in his head everywhere he went, as if it was reminding him that he only has _days_ before Jaemin leaves. Days. He thinks about it and fidgets with his thumb. 

“Fuck,” Renjun cursed under his breath and tried clearing his mind. _Stop thinking about the time. You’re only wasting it._

Jaemin comes into his room a little while afterwards, sometime around 10 A.M. and plops down on the boy’s bed. Renjun stood facing his window and stares out at the village. Spring was beautiful in Jebaek. Rolling hills of grass and crops. Luscious green mountains that surrounded the village. Streams, rivers, and lakes that dotted in almost every direction. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jaemin asks, head resting on his hands that were held back behind his head. 

Renjun turns to glance at Jaemin for a second before shifting his gaze back outside the window, “About how we have four days left.” 

Jaemin opens his mouth to complain about Renjun’s constant reminder of the time, but the smaller beats him to speaking. 

“And it reminds me,” Renjun began, “Everything about us feels as temporary as the Spring season itself.”

Jaemin interrupts, “Since when did you become a poet?”

Renjun shushed him by reaching down to peel off a house slipper and chucking it at the boy on his bed, “I was about to _say_... that something else temporary is the bloom of spring. It lasts barely a week for some trees, did you know that? Like us.” 

Jaemin hums, not knowing where Renjun was going with this. 

Then Renjun turns towards his friend, “Nana, do you like cherry blossoms?”

Jaemin sits up slowly, thinking about it. He doesn’t think he has ever seen one in real life, “I wouldn’t know.”

“But you would,” Renjun smiled, “Let me help you remember why you would.” 

Jaemin shakes his head, bringing himself up off the bed and towards his friend, “Show me.”

And so Renjun does. They hike a small ways up through the mountains again. Most of their little adventures happen somewhere in those vast mountains. Hidden everywhere are little gems and all one needs is to look for them. Since Jebaek was surrounded by several mountains, naturally there will plenty of natural features in between each set. They walk on the right side of the mountain Northernmost of Jebaek until in the distance, down below, Jaemin spots pink. The color seemed to trigger his mind, for he feels the now familiar rush of memories. Small little snippets of flashbacks. Black hair bouncing as they ran. The rains of pink and white. The soft ground as they ran. The canopy of pinks, red, and whites. His legs move faster and he takes Renjun with him. 

They run and run until they were at the base of the mountain and stepped upon what seemed to be the start of a field. A field that was lined everywhere with cherry trees. Dozens upon dozens of them, as far as they could see. The ground was completely blocked out by white and pink, hailing from the petals of the trees themselves. And upon the tree branches, what looked to be millions of cherry blossom petals graced their eyes. When the wind blew, or even when the wind _didn’t_ blow, petals flew everywhere. It was like it was raining, but instead of water, it was just the beautiful flowers and petals of cherry blossoms. They had come at the perfect time, for cherry blossoms only have a one week blooming period, a few weeks if they were really lucky. 

Jaemin was rediscovering the place and it mesmerizes him. He stares at Renjun’s back as the boy walks forward slowly, head tilted up to the trees. All around him was a swirl of pretty pink petals falling, twirling in the air before it makes it to the ground. Some flowers fell in Renjun’s black hair, providing a gorgeous contrast, and the look of it awed Jaemin. They walk around like this, admiring the stunning beauty for a while until finally, Jaemin comes to a slow halt. Renjun noticing the lack of footsteps stops also, and turns his body halfway around until his head could lean to the side to look at Jaemin. 

Na Jaemin wasn’t sure what part of his body made him stop. He thinks it was his brain, for it seemed to short circuit. Or maybe it was his slow but sure realization. He looks at the sight in front of him, Renjun standing there so prettily and perfect amidst a forest of cherry blossoms that rained on him like magic. It could not have been more like a scene from a movie. If it was one, then Jaemin would like to rewind this so that he could watch it all over it. He would watch it to see that slight smile on Renjun face. That flutter of an eyelash. The rosy tint of his cheeks. The happiness on his face. That was what made Jaemin’s heart skipped a beat the most. Jaemin thinks, at this moment, he even realizes, at this moment, that he wanted many things for his life. He wanted a stable income. He wanted a comfortable life in a comfortable place with a comfortable partner. He wanted many things. But never had he wanted anything as much as he wanted this: as much as he wanted to see this happiness evident on Renjun’s face for the rest of his life. 

And so Na Jaemin asks himself. As they stand there, with the breeze blowing petals everywhere, Jaemin asks himself:

He asks, _Just liking someone… it doesn’t feel like this, does it._ It doesn't. Jaemin knows it doesn't. And so he wonders, what is it. 

~~Day 46. Cherry blossoms.~~ Done. 

  
  
  
  


Three days. The endgame. In every book, in every movie--not that Renjun watched many at all--in every real life situation, three is when the countdown starts. _3, 2, 1_ takeoff. _3, 2, 1_ happy New years. _3, 2, 1_ Go. But for Jaemin and Renjun, it was different. The countdown was different. 

_3, 2, 1_. 

And the next thing he knows, Jaemin will be gone. Renjun wakes up knowing this, and a small sweat trails down his neck. He sits up in bed and sees how dark it was outside from the early morning. He looks over at his bed, where Jaemin had held him last night to sleep. Renjun bites his tongue. If this was the sight he woke up to every morning, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

He slides out of bed and makes his way across the village to do the water filtration himself this morning. He figures he should get used to it again, knowing that in three days, he’ll be back alone to doing this. He will be back to the sole caretaker of Jebaek when it comes to tasks like this. He will be back to being the one taking care of everything, without anyone to take care of him in return. Renjun tells himself it was good while it lasted, but he still can’t kick the thought out of his mind that this was ending. 

The closer it got, no matter how much he promises himself to savor the last moments before they’re gone, no matter how much he tells Jaemin that he will give him 100%, Renjun couldn’t help but want to crumble at the fact that the end was so near. So close that Renjun could already taste the bitter pain in his mouth. 

The thought plagues Renjun for the rest of the day, and he knows it will only get worse within the next 72 hours. He needed to stop thinking about it. He needed to just focus on Jaemin. And make use of their time together. But Huang Renjun couldn’t help it. _Fuck,_ he couldn’t help it. Everytime Jaemin laughed, it made Renjun think ‘ _this is one of the last times I’ll hear this sound.’_ Everytime Jaemin kissed him, it made Renjun think ‘ _this is one of the last times I’ll be able to taste those lips.’_ Everytime Jaemin smiles, it made Renjun think _‘this is one of the last times I’ll get to see this smile.’_ It killed him. 

It affected his behavior, making him feel almost frantic. Jaemin notices, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows the reason why, and he knows it was way too close to time for him to convince Renjun of anything. Instead, he tries to ease the smaller, laughing a little more than usual, playing a little more than usual, kissing a little more than usual, so that it makes up for the two of them. He does this to mask Jaemin’s own growing feelings of pain. It blooms in his chest, and he sometimes pull out the ticket for his train that he was supposed to leave for in a few days just to be sore at the sight of it. 

It was like knowing when the world was ending, and trying to take every second as if each was precious. Of course that was a little dramatic, but at times, it felt like it. On day 47, Jaemin asks Renjun about myths and legends in Jebaek, and the boy shows him. They venture out into a slow moving stream, one they haven't been on before. The waters were dark and murky, mixed with mud from the upper bank. On either sides of the small stream, trees made an arch above the water, forming some sort of a dark passageway. The trees here were ancient. They could tell by the gnarled roots and thick trunks. It's branches formed a canopy so that when they entered the stream on a little raft, it was like disappearing into a tunnel of trees, with only a little light passing through its thick leaves. 

Renjun tells him that as long as Jebaek had been alive and thriving, legend has it that this stream housed water spirits and demons from the depths of hell. And that if a traveller does not toss a coin in before they ride on its slow currents, then a spirit will snatch them. Jaemin finds the tale mythical, but he tosses in a coin anyways. And so they floated slowly down the stream. It was cool under the canopy, and occasionally, parakeets or some other birds would flap its wings. On the raft, Renjun tells him brilliant stories of myths and folklore tossed around Jebaek, and Jaemin listens. He twirls his pen in his hand as he does so. He jots down the stories after it is told, but while Renjun speaks, Jaemin makes sure to look at him. Because he was not going to dare waste a second not to when the boy was speaking. He couldn't. 

They acted as if it was a normal day for them. But both knew. Even when Renjun is busy in an excited lecture, in the back of his mind, he always knows. 

They were running out of time. And they were running out of it _fast._

Later that night, Jaemin joins Renjun 381 steps for the smaller, 236 for him, at the bench and they sit in silence. It had been tiring all day, pretending everything was okay. Here, neither of them had to pretend. Renjun rests his head on Jaemin's shoulder and closes his eyes. A pain swallowed up his words and he finds himself unable to speak. Jaemin knows. He was feeling it too. The sense of doom that was coming in like a storm. And so they sit there. Too afraid to go home. 

~~Day 47. Myths.~~ Done.

Day 48. Two days. It is exhausting. Renjun hates it. He finds it exhausting. The very act of being around Jaemin. The sight of the boy was a constant reminder that he was getting a taste of something he can’t truly have. But despite that, Renjun spends the day with him. Jaemin tries to pretend that it’s all normal, and that they were two people in Jebaek just trying to live their day. Renjun takes him to a rundown wind mill that had not been used in ages, rust decorated its outside. They climb inside through a window and up towards the top until they could lean against the railing that looked out upon dead grass. They were on the drier side of a mountain, where the water flows away instead of towards. The land here was dry but it made it easy to run through. They spend the day there, exploring the arid place.

He pretends with fake smiles and a voice that sounds upbeat for the two of them. But he knows the end is approaching. That this will probably be the last memory he will recover. He did not care about that. He doesn't give a shit about the windmill. Renjun could have spent the day with him couped up in his room and it wouldn't have made a difference. He did not _care_ about the memory Renjun was trying to recover for him anymore.

He cared only about what memory he can make now. Today. Before it was too late. Because he knows. He knows the end is near.

And it is _because_ Jaemin knows that when he hugs Renjun, he holds him a little tighter. When he kisses Renjun, his lips linger for a little longer. When he takes a whiff of Renjun’s hair, he goes over all the details in his mind because in two days time, he knows that it will be the last. He hadn’t used his phone in forever because there was no charging ports here in Jebaek, but he itches to record the sound of Renjun’s voice, maybe have the boy sing a song. But he doesn’t. Jaemin knows that the best thing to do is to not waste any time and savor it now.

Renjun knows that Jaemin is pretending that everything is normal. He was having a hard time facing the coming days and it showed. He had not been sleeping by himself for days now, scared that when he wakes up, Jaemin will be gone. And even when they are spending the day together, Renjun finds it hard to kick the thought out that it was going to end soon. And it made him panic a little bit.

So Renjun appreciates the taller for doing so, for pretending everything was okay because it was more than he was doing. Renjun understands why Jaemin would, for what was worse than the truth? So he tries. He tries to pretends too.

 ~~Day 48. The windmill.~~ Done. 

Day 49. One day left. Today, Jaemin asks his final topic. They are sitting on the ledge of some broken down building far off the edge of town and are swinging their legs over the side. They were watching the evening sun, scared of what happens when it goes down. Throughout the day, the two had been savoring every moment they could. Jaemin memorized all he could about Jebaek. The mountains. The bamboo roofs. The kids. The friends. The food. The river. But most of all, Renjun. He plasters the image of Renjun in his head, cements it in his mind. But now, as the day was ending, the two sit here together.

At some point, Renjun grabs the bag that he carried with him on their way here and places it in Jaemin’s lap. The brown haired boy looks down at it. It felt heavy on his legs and he looked to the side at Renjun for an explanation. He had assumed the bag just carried food, water, and whatever things they needed for their adventures like it usually did. But the bag was far too heavy to be food and water.

Renjun purses his lips and gives Jaemin a small smile, “You asked me a while ago to carve you something, right? Something before you leave, remember?”

Jaemin remembers, although it had slipped his mind after all these weeks. He reaches down to hold the large bag, careful, for it was heavy. He makes a move to open it, but Renjun puts a hand out to stop him. 

“Wait,” Renjun said as he stops Jaemin from opening it, “Not yet.”

Jaemin looked at him, “Not yet?”

Renjun shook his head no, “Open it only when you get back to Seoul.” 

“Why?” Jaemin laughs.

Renjun hesitates, “Just do it. Promise me.”

Jaemin senses the seriousness in his voice, so he agrees, “Alright.”

Renjun gives him an appreciative smile, and then Jaemin asks, “How much do you want for it?” 

Renjun laughs a little and then shakes his head, “Free of charge. I wouldn’t accept your money even if you tried.”

Jaemin tongues his cheek and then looks at Renjun as if he was in awe, “You’re something else, Jun.” 

Renjun smiled, and looked off to the side. 

They sit there talking for a decent amount of time, both trying to act like everything is normal once more. It wasn’t. But they could at least pretend. 

Finally, Jaemin asks his final topic. He asks about love. 

“Love?” Renjun asked, voice going quiet at the end as the word hits a little too close to his heart. He continues with a soft voice, “What do you want to know about love.”

Jaemin looks off towards the sunset, leaning back on his right hand and twirling a pen with his left. He lets the breeze blow strands of his hair across his eyes, “In Jebaek, how do people express love? What does it look like? What does it feel like?”

Renjun pursed his lips and looks down at his lap. What kind of question was this, he wondered. How could Jaemin ask a question like this. He turns over to look at his friend and then gave a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “Jaemin, love is love.”

Renjun continues speaking after finishing his previous statement with a beat of silence, “Place me anywhere in the world and the culture will be different, the food will be different, the clothing will be different. But something that never changes is love. You know why?” 

Jaemin is quiet and he listens to Renjun. 

“Because you can’t generalize love. It’s different for every person, Jaemin.” Renjun affirms and then chooses his words carefully, “So you ask how do people express love? You'll never get the same answer from any two people, much less a whole village."

He hesitates, wondering if he should go on further. He does, "For me, it’s through taking the person I love on adventures that are special to only them and myself. It’s through spending so many hours of my day with them, and never getting tired of it for a second." He thinks about it some more, "It’s through giving them every part of me, even when I hate being vulnerable.”

Renjun pauses and then continues, “You ask what does it look like? It looks like…” Renjun looks at the sky above them and then closes his eyes and speaks slow, “...swimming in a waterfall before the sun rises, climbing up a tree to watch the sunset," Renjun knows exactly what he was referencing to and he doesn't stop. What was the point? Jaemin was going to leave tomorrow, "Spontaneous trips to the city, spending the afternoon in bed with no plans of leaving, waking up early in the morning to take care of something for me, rope swings into a lake.”

Jaemin doesn't say anything, just lets his friend finish. 

And then for the last of Jaemin’s questions, Renjun opens his eyes again, but doesn’t look at Jaemin.

Instead, he stares ahead at the setting sun and gives out a bittersweet smile, “You ask what it feels like? Well,” He says with a dry laugh, “You can guess.”

Quiet, and then Renjun reaches out to pull Jaemin’s hand to his beating heart. The rhythm was a quick staccato and revealed much.

Renjun takes a moment to look at Jaemin one last time. This was going to be his last time, he realizes. It was perfect right now. What more beautiful sight to leave on than this, he decides. So he looks. The sun sets on their faces, and the afterglow basks Jaemin’s skin in a warm pinkish glow. His brown eyes felt as if they had as much depth as the ocean. His hair perfectly immaculate. His lips stunning and jaw was defined. He looks at the boy who had come here to Jebaek as his old childhood friend who he did not give a damn about, and now he was leaving as a complicated lover who he would have given the world to have stay. But Renjun knows. Renjun knows that when you love someone, you wish them the best. And if that best meant that Jaemin leaves, then so be it. If that best meant that Na Jaemin will go through the years, forget him eventually, grow with someone else and start a family, and have a safe, stable life, then so be it. Understand this now, Renjun takes his last look at Jaemin. Memorizes every feature of the boy’s face. 

Then Renjun finishes, “It feels like this.”

And Jaemin doesn’t tell him. Na Jaemin doesn’t tell him that his chest was feeling the same. 

That night, when Jaemin lays in bed, before he goes to sleep, he opens his notebook. He had wanted Renjun to stay with him for the night. Their last night. But after Renjun’s monologue, the smaller was a bit quiet for the rest of the evening. He wanted to go home, and Jaemin felt as if tonight wasn’t the night to argue. 

So now he opens his notebook to the page he was supposed to document today’s thesis topic. The topic about love. He twirls his pen around as he stares at the blank page. He stares at it for who knows how long. Enough for him to get sick of it. 

He looks down at the label situated at the bottom. 

Day 49. Love. 

And for the first time, he doesn’t strike it out. 

He leaves it blank. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Day 50. _Day fifty_. 

_Day fucking fifty._ It had come.

Jaemin thinks back to his first day. Oh how he wanted Day 50 to come. He prayed for it to come as quick as possible, so he could go home to his nice city bed in his nice city dorm and loft and live his nice city life. He saw Jebaek as statistically inferior and wanted to leave. Less than 500 residents. 0% connection rate to technology. 62% High School graduation rate. 1 out of 50 people had ever been to a city with a population larger than 100,000. 

And now, it _was_ the fiftieth day. And like everyone in Jebaek said to him in the beginning, he will find this place to be more than its numbers. He will find that Jebaek isn’t a civilization stuck in the past, but one that has a living, breathing aura of happiness, which was more advanced than Jaemin could say for any given big city in Korea. It was surreal that he was now going home, after he had found himself a home someplace else. In someone else. Now, the thought of leaving left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

It was the fiftieth day, and Na Jaemin finds himself awake at early hours in the morning. He had woken up to do the water filtration for Renjun. No sign of the male. He goes back to his house and lays on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for the last time, twirling his pen in his hands. He looks towards the door where Renjun would usually be walking through in the mornings to join him. Again, there was no sign of the smaller. 

Jaemin’s train ticket was booked for 11 A.M. He had mere hours left. And Huang Renjun was nowhere to be seen. He was getting restless. His suitcase had been packed since last night and sat in the corner of his room. It felt wrong to be packed up like this. It felt wrong to have his wristwatch on again after laying on the nightstand for the past however long. But more than anything, it felt wrong to not have seen Huang Renjun by now. On this day. _Especially_ on this day. 

Renjun couldn’t say he had woken up, because that implied he slept in the first place. He didn’t. He spent the night in his bed, holding his blanket up to his chest, wondering how they got here. How they got to this point. The point in which Renjun was so goddamn attached to Na Jaemin that knowing he was leaving 11 A.M. the next morning made him feel a sense of pain he would rather die than face. He knew that his heart was not going to survive tomorrow. How could it. He had fallen in love with a man that he knew was going to leave from the very beginning. For the _second_ time, no less. 

That morning, the fact that it was the fiftieth day did not sink in until he looks at his list and sees that it was the last spot. And it was blank. There was nothing next to “Day 50” because the journey was over. It was all over. 

He wasn’t going to see Jaemin off. He refuses to.

He couldn't do it. He lied. He lied so bad. He lied so hard. He couldn't do it. He couldn't be brave today. He told Jaemin that he was going to be brave for the rest of the time, but he couldn't be brave today. He couldn't pretend today. Pretend that everything was okay. He wasn’t going to stand there at the station and watch him leave. Hell, he wasn’t going to stand _anywhere_ at all and watch him leave. Not if he could help it. He can't. He won't. 

So Renjun ventures out to somewhere that had helped him think and escape in the past. He walks 381 steps to the raggedy bench overlooking the bright yellow corn fields, the number 381 now feeling bitter in his tongue and on his mind. He doesn’t sit, but rather, he stands in front of the bench and holds himself from the slight breeze. It was not a sunny day. But it wasn’t completely cloudy either. It was just _dull_ , plain and simple as that.

As if the life had been sucked out of Jebaek, yet a little remained so that it continues to suffer a slow death. For the hundredth time, he wishes this place had the same affect it used to. But now, all he could think of was Na Jaemin. He clenched his fist and refused to think about it. Think about _him_. 

How to describe the feeling he had right now? It can't be done. Renjun could not put it into thought what it felt like to be standing here now, the day had come. It was something he knew had been coming for a long time, but never had it feel tangible than now. It seemed as if a heavy weight settled upon the entire village, and no matter where he went, he couldn't escape it. It seemed as if the crows were louder than usual today. An omen of bad luck. The crows flew above the field of corn and made their territory known. He watches them, hoping that it takes his mind off what was going to happen in an hour. 

It doesn't. 

He hears footsteps. Fuck, he hears footsteps. Renjun closes his eyes and purses his lips. He does not turn around.

It was as if he thought the man into existence, because sometimes around 10 o’clock, he hears those footsteps walking towards him, then stopping at a distance.

Renjun knew who it was. Who else could it have been? He should have known that Jaemin wasn’t just going to let this go easy, and he cursed at himself for being so naive. It was quiet for a moment and Renjun looks down at the ground. An uneasy air settled. 

Jaemin speaks behind him, voice low and a little bit pained, “You fucking bastard,” He says, knowing he didn’t mean the words completely, “The only person in Jebaek who I truly cared about seeing me off. And you weren’t even going to bother, were you.” 

Renjun stays quiet and raises his head to the sky, holding his body closer as he tries to drown away the disappointment in Jaemin’s voice with the humming of the wind.

Jaemin takes a step closer and Renjun hitches his breath and says with a voice as firm as he could muster up, “Don’t come closer.”

At that, Jaemin laughs dryly, and the sharpness in them makes Renjun wince. He doesn’t turn around. Jaemin then asks, “You’re really not going to even look at me?” 

Renjun shakes his head no, biting on the inside of his lip so hard that it draws blood. Even hearing Jaemin's voice right now was making him want to crumble his demeanor.

“Why,” Jaemin asks. Almost demands.

Renjun takes his time to answer, probably more time than they were allotted. He speaks through his teeth, "My last image of you was already perfect.” He pauses and thought back to how he memorized Jaemin’s face yesterday as they sit upon the ledge watching the sunset. “Yesterday. The sunset. Your face. Everything was perfect. I want my last image of you to be that. Not this,” Renjun says with a pained voice, “Not you leaving.”

Na Jaemin scoffs lightly and Renjun could hear it, “You have to be kidding me, Jun.” 

Renjun snaps, his head turning to the side slightly but he still doesn’t see Jaemin, “What.” 

"You're not going to fucking do thi-"

"I am," Renjun frustratedly says, clenching his thumb within his fist. 

“Renjun, this isn’t the goddamn books you read,” Jaemin then says in a frustrated tone, “You can’t just skip the ending because you’re afraid of it. You don’t get to make up your own ending, Renjun. This is the only one we got. Do you hear me?” He repeats, "This is the _only_ one we got." 

Renjun bites his lip but says nothing. He sticks by his word. 

Jaemin, frustrated, tells him, “Goddamnit, if you don’t look at me, then I’ll come over there myse-”

“Don’t,” Renjun snapped, “I’ll never fucking forgive you.”

At that, Jaemin laughs with no humor in his voice, “And? It’s not like I’m ever going to visit you, remember? It’s not like you’re ever going to come see me, remember? I’m going to forget you like you were dust on my shelf, remember?”

Jaemin says this, but he doesn’t move forward. He stays rooted in his spot, even though he knew that every word he said was true. He knew he was right, and he knew that _Renjun_ knew he was right. Even then, he stays there. Because no matter how irritated he was at the situation, something about the way Renjun seemed to beg for this made him hesitant. 

Every single word that Jaemin just said hits Renjun like bullets and it takes everything he had inside of him not to crumple onto the ground beneath him. He holds himself up as best as he could and tried to put out words, “You wanted to leave the moment you got here. So why don’t you just _leave_ ,” Renjun says quietly. 

The wind seemed to be crying for him, for it weaved its way through the corn stalks, whistling as it flies. The grass underneath his feet rustles. The crows caw. His heart aches. 

Jaemin speaks, “The first day I came, you told me that when the fiftieth day comes, I’ll have to go back. I’ll have to go back because I have to, but I’m wasn't going to want to. You told me this, Renjun.” 

Renjun doesn’t say anything. He just listens, eyes glued to the ground on his left. 

Jaemin continues, “Well you’re right. I don’t want to. But I have to, Jun.” Jaemin's voice suddenly turned gentle yet low and almost pleading, “I have to. So please, at least let me look at you one more time. Don’t let me leave like this.” 

Renjun’s voice came out cracked, but he doesn’t turn around, “Why?” 

“Because, fuck, Renjun, I lo-…” _love you_ ? Was that what Jaemin wanted to say? The brown haired boy stopped himself before he could finish his words because _what_ did he want to say. There seemed to only be one thing to say, but Jaemin wasn’t sure if he could say it. He wasn’t sure if it was even that. Renjun’s ear perked up, because he swore Jaemin’s lips formed the beginning of the word, but he couldn’t be sure. He listens for Jaemin to continue. 

Jaemin starts over, but this time, he steers far from those words that will forever ghost themselves in Renjun’s mind. Jaemin speaks again, “Because we don’t deserve this ending.” 

_Oh_. So that's what he was going to say. Renjun speaks up suddenly, “Then what ending do you think we deserve, Jaemin?”

“A real one, Jun,” Jaemin asks, wanting so bad to do it himself and make Renjun see him, “One where you turn around and come to me. One where you let me kiss you for the last time, look at you for the last time. See me off at the station.” 

"I can't do th-"

"Yes you fucking can, Renjun," Jaemin says, voice a little raised just from his frustration. 

"No, listen!" Renjun almost shouts this time, head looking to his left but never at Jaemin. His chest heaved and he wanted this conversation over. 

Renjun doesn’t look at Jaemin but he then tilts his head up to the sky and closes his eyes. His face was visibly winced at the emotional pain and he can barely form words. When he speaks again, it is soft, “Listen, Jaemin. This is what you’re going to do."

He continues, "This is what you're going to do. You’re going to turn around and go to the station. When does it leave, 11:00 A.M.? You're going to get there at 10:50., alright?"

"You’re going to ride back to Seoul and take a cab to your loft or dorm. You'll probably think of me for the first few days. Are you listening?” Renjun’s voice breaks, “But then, life gets busy again. You’re going to finish up your thesis and graduate with honors. Jaemin, Once in a while, you’ll think of me."

He quiets, "Until you start that job. It's going to be stressful but you’re going to work your ass off, Nana. You’re going to be amazing. You’re going to be successful. And slowly, you’re going to forget about me. Sometimes, when you're stressed, you'll think of Jebaek and how relaxing it was. But then you're going to think to yourself this. You're going to think to yourself this, okay: you're going to think that in Seoul is where you'll have the best future. And to stop thinking about me. About Jebaek."

Jaemin swallows, as each word hits him.

"You're going to get so many promotions because you're good at what you do. You're going to be so busy that you forget me. You'll start to forget what I even look like. Good." And this was when it hurt the most. Renjun still says it though, "And sometime down the road, Jaemin, you’re going to meet someone. They're going to be beautiful, and kind, and everything you wanted."

"You're going to meet someone, Jaemin," Renjun repeats, "And you’re going to love them, in the way you couldn’t with me, in the way you could never love me. And you’re going to have a happy life. You’re going to give them everything. At that point, the only time you think of me is when you parents are over for dinner and they tell stories to your spouse about what you were like as a child.” 

_You’re going to love them, in the way you couldn’t with me_. Those particular words pained Renjun to say, but he had no other words to give. 

Renjun says his last words, voice gentle, “What I’m trying to say is that you have a long life ahead of you. When you look back, you not having the ending you want with me is not going to mean much. You already took all of me, Jaemin. So do me one last thing, and leave.”

The silence that ensued was deafening, but Renjun knew Jaemin was still there. He wants to be curious. He wants to know how Na Jaemin was reacting, but he forces himself not to be. Instead, he listens to the silence, wondering if words will come. All he had just said hit him harder than he intended for it to, and Renjun brings a hand up to clutch at his chest at the hurt. He waits for words, if any were to be offered. 

It does, and this time, it comes from a Jaemin who seemed to accept defeat. Renjun had given the rest of his love into the future he had just set up for Jaemin, and the brown haired man knew. He knew that Renjun did not have the strength to argue any longer. And so then Na Jaemin says as if confirming slowly and gently, “And that’s what you want.”

Renjun doesn’t know why it hurts so bad to hear Jaemin give up. This was what he wanted after all. He wonders if anyone else's voice will ever hurt this bad for his ears to hear. But Renjun nods, “It is.”

And then Renjun ends it on some final words, “This was a beautiful dream, Nana, but now it’s time for us to wake up.” 

Na Jaemin hates it. He would trade many things right now for Renjun to change his mind. He’d trade anything except for the things that made a difference.

Something about the way this interaction tore at Jaemin’s chest and ignited a feeling he had never felt before made Jaemin believe that this was more than just infatuation. The way it felt as if the world had gone black and white made Jaemin believe that it was not another dimension where Jaemin loves Renjun too. Maybe it had been this one all along. Maybe. He closes his eyes.

In a perfect world, he has both. He has Renjun. And he has his future. And my god, did he wish this was a perfect world. But it isn’t, and Jaemin knows that he had already made his choice.

Renjun is on the verge of falling and he needed this to be over now. He stands there, lips pursed so tightly as if he was doing all he could not to have them tremble. 

Finally, he hears Na Jaemin speak and it’s words that pained him to hear, “So this is it then? Is this the end?” 

Every single word stung like a dagger that pierced his skin. He winced and wished that he didn’t have to reply yes. He wished that he was in an alternate dimension where they don’t have to leave. Where they don’t have to wonder about an end. But this wasn’t the world they lived in.

And Renjun knew that, so he says, with as much energy as he could muster up, “Yes.”

 _Yes_ . He wished that wasn’t the answer. My _god_ , he wished that wasn’t the answer. He would give up just about anything in the world for that to not be the answer. He is barely holding himself together at the moment, jaw clenched to hold mouth from letting out a little cry. Even as the word _'yes'_ left his lips, it barely felt real. It barely felt tangible. 

It only felt real once Renjun hears it. Once he hears it as clear as day, even amidst the wind and rustling. It tore at his fragile heart, piece by piece. But even then, he listens to it. 

Na Jaemin’s footsteps walking away. 

He listens. Each step breaking off another piece of his heart. And then silence. 

And it is when these footsteps begin fading away that Renjun allows himself to move. Straight. He runs forward, into the field of maize. He runs until his legs are scraped with rough bristles and the hairs of corn stick to his clothing. He runs until he gets completely lost within it. For the first time in forever, Renjun comes in here to hide like he used to. Here, where no one can find him. Here, where he can run for hours and still be lost. His calves were scratched from the bristles, but he doesn’t care. He keeps running. 

He keeps running until he enters an empty circle, a crop circle of sorts, in the middle of the corn field somewhere. It had a four meter circumference and when Renjun breaks through the corn and lands in the circle, he stumbles to his knees and lets out a small cry. He stumbles and maybe he scrapes himself a little bit, but if he did, he didn't feel it. He let out a small cry at the pain. 

It felt good. 

It felt good to cry, even if it was a one second wince from falling down. 

Renjun still on his hands, in the position he fell down in, and he looked up to the sky. Bland. Dull. Emptiness. He looked around him. The crop circle was completely enclosed by tall stalks of maize.

He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. No one to hear him. No one to hold him.

And so, he allows himself to. 

For the first time in all of his life, he allows himself to cry. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna tease you guys by saying that the next & last update is a short one what could this meannn
> 
> also, thank you so so much to everyone who reads this, who comments, who kudos, and who interacts w/ me. It literally makes me so happy, and ily guys so much <3 thanks for being renminists !


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, a 38k chapter  
> my last author's note was a lie, but we are  
> here at the end now! i hope you guys enjoy :)
> 
> love, the author of this dearly missed fic

  
  


It felt as if the world had become muted. 

In Jebaek, usually, the tall and looming oaks and maples that made up the vast expanse of its surrounding mountains were green like the deepest of emeralds. Usually, the crystal waters of the streams and rivers shone like diamonds from Sierra Leone underneath the sun’s shimmering yellow light. Usually, life thrived as if never touched by mankind. 

Now, it felt as if someone had muted all the colors, the sounds, the smells, and sucked the life out of Jebaek. Blue skies that would mesmerize Renjun before now looked a little paler, like it was sick with heartache from watching Renjun from its high place in the heavens. The water lacked the luster that it used to have, and Renjun does not like to look at it when he walks by. The smell of hand-pulled noodles tossed in a garlic chili sauce no longer had his mouth salivating like it used to, everything tasted bland. Even the sound of birds chirping to welcome the early morning felt like screeches to his ears. 

Huang Renjun felt like a shell of the person he was before. There was life _before_ Jaemin. And then, there was life _after_ Jaemin. But the best part of his life was life _during_ Jaemin. He still feels the essence of it everywhere he went. It has only been a week since Na Jaemin had boarded the train back to Seoul, and Renjun still felt the impact as if it was yesterday. 

The first day went by like a blur, for it always seems like that when you’ve been doing nothing all day, right? A blur. All Renjun remembers was being in Mrs. Rin’s house, who always welcomed anyone and everyone, cooped up in her guest bedroom for the entire day. Renjun couldn’t stay in his own bedroom, for everything made him think of Jaemin. The list of Days on the corkboard, with Day 50 crossed out at the bottom as a final note. The sheets that still smelled like Jaemin’s cologne that he had grown to love. Just looking at his bed made him want to throw up, reminding him of all the times they had laid there together and slept until the sun just began to rise. He couldn’t stay there. He wouldn’t. So he takes refuge in Mrs. Rin’s abode. 

The woman didn’t say anything when Renjun showed up at her door and let himself inside. She didn’t need to ask. She knew, just judging by the wear and tear on Renjun’s face. The redness of his eyes. The way his face looked a little swollen, and his shoulders a little slumped, and his soul a little dry. She knew. And she didn’t say anything. She just let Renjun make his way up her stairs and into her guest bedroom where he proceeds to lay for the rest of the day. Two days. Three? He wasn’t sure. 

The only time he got up was in the morning, to make clean water for the village, and to use the bathroom. His back was turned away from the door at all times as he laid in bed, for he did not want anyone to see him like this. Alone. Pathetic. And utterly in pain. For so long he had been keeping up a perfect and happy face for Jebaek, and now, all of the loss and hurt he refused to let himself experience is catching up. And it was crippling. 

At times, the pain was so much that it hurt to breathe. It was as if Jaemin took all of his air away from his lungs when he left for Seoul. Renjun cries. He hates crying, but he does so anyways. He hated crying because that was something that weak people did. He hated crying because it was surrender. It was a show of pain. It was vulnerability. But now that he had started, he found it hard to stop. 

Was this worth it? Was the pain worth those kisses, those nights spent in each other’s arms, the memories? He finds himself asking that when night falls and Mrs. Rin is asleep in a room besides his, and he does everything he could to not let her hear him cry through their thin walls. 

Renjun clamps a hand over his mouth as he tries to muffle sobs, and clenches his eyes hoping that it takes the tears back in. His shoulders shaked as he did so, and he pushes his face into the warm pillow, soaked with the tears of a love found then lost. 

In his head, he was reliving all of it against his will. With just the sound of crickets outside and nothing else but silence, it was easy for his mind to think of nothing else but Jaemin. Their day at the waterfall, jumping into the basin in early dawn while the moonlight was still shining. Their evenings lecturing Jaemin for his stupid thesis, trying hard not to get distracted but doing so anyways for what seemed to be a million times. Their escapades of doing ridiculous things: sneaking into the school, vandalizing the village square, picking the lock of the bell tower. Memories of happier time. A better time. 

As an extra form of torture, Renjun relives it all. The middle of his forehead was sore from crying and his jaw hurt from clenching so hard, in an attempt to hold back cries. It was only then that he would be able to go to sleep, eyes puffy and red, cheeks slick with drying streaks of tears. 

And when he wakes up, he does it all over again. It felt as if he was in an infinite loop of their last conversation. _So this is the end_ , Jaemin had asked. _And this is what you want_ , Jaemin had said. And to all of them, Renjun had said yes. He had drove the boy away, and now, he was suffering the consequences. 

It was a week later that Renjun forces himself to do something. _Anything_. During his first week of being cooped up in Mrs. Rin’s guestroom, with maybe one meal every two days or so, he wasn’t sure how many came in to see him. How many of his friends. Even his parents. He refused to talk to any of them, not when he was like this. He had never been this weak before. 

But after a week past, Renjun tries to make himself more active, believing it would distract him. 

He wished it did. Even as Renjun began to perform mundane village tasks here and there, the little skip in his step and spark in his eyes were gone. It looked as if the boy had aged fifty years, and everyone could see it. It was concerning, and Renjun wished they would stop giving him looks of pity. But he didn’t blame them. He knew why. When he looked inside of the mirror, he knew exactly why everyone looked as if they were sorry for him. Lovestruck and heartbroken was practically tattooed across his forehead for the entire village to see. He looks down when he walks, avoiding people’s pitying eyes. 

He avoids the field. He laughs dryly when thinking about it. He had told Jaemin that he used this field to escape when he was little because every other place in Jebaek was laced with the memory of six year old Jaemin. It was almost poetic in a sad sense. Because now, as a grown adult, he lost that field to the same person his younger self wanted to hide from. It was even more ironic that every place in Jebaek _now_ was laced with the memories of twenty-one year old Jaemin. It was as if he didn’t learn the lesson the first time. 

He avoids just about everything. The river. The stream. The school. Jaemin’s house, which now laid empty and barren except for when Mrs. Rin comes in once a week to maintain it. Hell, Renjun avoids his own bedroom at all costs, only coming in when he needs clothing. But even then, he doesn’t look at the bed. 

Everywhere he goes, it felt as if he could feel the ghost of a better time lingering on his fingertips, on his lips, in his soul. 

When his legs take him into the forest in order to collect some item for a fellow villager, in his vision, Renjun could almost _see_ , almost _taste_ the air as it was when it was just him and Jaemin: running through the woods at dusk trying to catch fireflies in a jar. 

_“Shut up, you’ll miss my ridiculousness when you’re gone,” Renjun had smiled, his eyes still concentrating on his surroundings, waiting for a flash of light before running towards it with the net._

_“Why do you always feel the need to mention that I’m leaving?” Jaemin asks out of curiosity, also concentrating on finding the little bugs._

_“Because,” Renjun says as he swings his net. He then let out a whoop. He had caught one. Slowly, he slipped the net into the jar with the slotted lid and continued, “I have to remind myself, so that I don’t get too attached._

Renjun laughs at the irony, because here he was, attached as ever. It had been unavoidable, like being stuck on a roller coaster going uphill just to have a steep drop at the end. Thinking back on it now just made his heart feel even more wrenched out of his chest. 

When his legs take him to the stream, his mind thinks back to the day they, in an attempt to break some laws, stripped down to their underwear and ran across the village until they got into Renjun’s house. He remembers the sun setting quickly that day, filling the skies with flashes of purples and blues only to settle into a deep, moody dusk. It had been beautiful, and naive yet perfect. Everything had been perfect. From the sound of Jaemin’s laughter to the feeling of his own. The memory made his heart ache. This entire time, Renjun had been trying to make Jaemin remember all of their past. It was ironic now that it was him trying to forget. 

He was trying so desperately. To forget how it felt to lay his head on Jaemin’s lap on a warm afternoon under the shade of a birch tree that overlooked the dark blue waters of the lake. To forget the sensation of Jaemin’s hands slipped inside of his own as they wade through tall grass at sunset, looking for the abandoned train to raid. To forget how it felt to have the rain poured on their skins, soaking their clothes, dripping down their faces, and how the stinging of the rain pellets all went away the moment he felt Jaemin’s lips on his own. To forget how it sounded to have soft conversations with the man late into the night while they held each other as if time was all theirs to own. Renjun wanted to forget it all.

If love hurt this much, was it worth it? Was it worth the endless nights trying to muffle his sobs in the palm of his hands? Was it worth the infinite loop of memories replaying in his head? Even as he tries to integrate himself back in Jebaek, Jaemin’s presence was so strong that he would have been better off staying in that guestroom. Or maybe, if Renjun allowed himself to think about it, he would have been better off staying in that purple field of Lavender and Four o-Clocks, where they never had to die and Jaemin never had to leave. 

He avoids wondering if Jaemin was thinking about him, but the thought crosses his mind anyways. He wonders a lot. Is Jaemin okay? Has he acclimated back yet? Has the backpack been open yet? Was the man happy? 

He wonders and wonders, but that was all it amounted to : wonders. 

Na Jaemin, on the other hand, lays in his loft back in Seoul at 3 in the morning. He wants to be tired. Hell, he even went on an hour long run earlier so that he _could_ be tired. But as he laid now, on his comfortable duvet and ice cold pillow, his eyes were as awake as they could be. He stares out the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Seoul. Cars honking. The whirring of engines. The shouting of people below. 

He should be comfortable, back in his home. Back in his bed. But it felt like Seoul was a shell of a city it once was. The busyness was no longer endearing, but a bit irritating. When he closes his eyes in an attempt to sleep, he finds himself listening for crickets but hears nothing. When the dawn comes and the sun breaks through, he looks at his door almost expecting Renjun to barge in, but no one ever comes. 

The pack that Renjun had given him laid unopened in the corner of his bed. Jaemin could not find himself opening it, could not find himself thinking about Renjun without feeling a sense of loss. It was the type of loss that was confusing and numbing. It felt as if Jaemin went about his day blindly. When he walks to the usual cafe to grab a coffee, it felt as if he was doing so with half effort. When he calls his friends, it felt as if he had nothing to say, as if he had saved all of his words for Renjun. 

Even as he lays here, duvet touching his bare skin, he feels as if his arms were empty, lacking of a body to hold. The warmth of a certain boy far away. 

Numbed, that was how he felt. It felt as if his entire body and mind were numbed. Muted in all senses. When he closes his eyes, he can still see him. Renjun. He could still see those pretty lips, brown eyes, soft skin. He could still hear that voice, like honey, so sweet and soft. 

Jaemin wonders how much longer until it starts to fade away: the details of Renjun that was so clear to him now. Jaemin wonders when he’ll start to forget. But most of all, he wonders if he _wants_ to forget. 

Jaemin gets back into his normal routine, but nothing felt normal about it. His nights never felt normal, unless he was drowned in vodka shots at a bar and couldn’t tell the difference between what was normal and what was not. His thesis needed to be written still, but all he had was a blank notepad and a twirling pen. He doesn’t want to open the notebook that he had used to take notes in Jebaek. He stares at it: the leather bound notebook. He knows that if he opens it, then he’ll want to book a train back the very next day to Jebaek. But Jaemin knew. He knew that he needed to open it at some point. He needed to write his thesis at some point, and make it worth it: make it worth leaving the only person he had ever truly wanted. 

So what did it feel like to try to move on from the memories of Jebaek and the memories of Renjun? It felt like trying to find his way through a maze that was pitch black. He held onto the side of the walls, and blindly moved through it. Not knowing where he was going. Or how he was going to get out of here. 

The way they left off put a sour taste in his mouth. He would have given everything to go back to that moment, to go back and see Renjun one more time. And _actually_ see him: his face. To kiss him one last time. He would have given anything except for the thing that would have made a difference. 

  
  
  


“Na Jaemin,” The stern man looked at his student, “You’ve been different ever since you’ve come back.”

Jaemin sits there now, in the office of his professor and mentor of his thesis, his back up against a leather armchair. It was just him in the office, for Professor Soo had called him in to check up on the progress of his thesis. The man was old, but wise. The way he spoke felt as if he understood things about life that no one else did, rare for someone who lived in a place like Seoul.

Jaemin had taken a pen off of the man's desk and was now twirling it around his fingers. He asks, "What do you mean?"

The professor gestures towards his appearance, "I mean look at you."

At that, Jaemin paused. Was it really that obvious? Na Jaemin was worse for wear, and it probably showed. Bags underneath his eyes. Messy hair. A solemn look on his face. And a spisit that felt crushed. He looks up at the man and pursed his lips, looking over to the side. How could he explain himself? How could he explain the events of all that had happened. 

He mutters out an “I’m sor-”

“Don’t be,” His professor interrupted, “You have the look of a love-struck cupid. Don’t tell me that village, Jebaek, took a little more than you bargained for.” 

Jaemin looked away, unsure how to say that Jebaek took a _lot_ more than he bargained for. It took his entire perspective on life and changed it in all the right ways until he is who he was now. 

Jaemin’s silence was answer enough to the old professor, who had lived enough years to know when someone was in love, or in pain. Sometimes, there was no difference between the two.

The old man asked him then, “Who was it.”

Jaemin looked up to meet the man in the eye and could see the curious soul within it. He opened his mouth to speak, but words could barely form. _Who was it?_ He understood the question, but at the same time, he _didn’t_ understand the question. So he asks, “What do you mean?”

The professor smiled as if he knew, “Who was it that made you like this?” 

Now that was an easier question to answer. It involved no mentions of the “L” word. It involved no acknowledgement of that subject in particular. This one Jaemin could answer, but even as he opened his mouth to say Renjun’s name, it felt painful to think of saying it out loud. 

So instead, Jaemin responds, “Just a childhood friend.”

“ _Just_ a childhood friend?” The professor laughs, “If it was _just_ a childhood friend, then would you be feeling like this?” 

Jaemin did not want to talk about his any longer. He opens his mouth to get back on track to what they were discussing before, “Professor, I a-”

“Am a shell of the person you used to be,” His professor finished and it wasn’t even the words Jaemin had been intending to say, “You are not the same boy you were when you left, Na Jaemin. When you left Seoul, you were the bright student in my class who always raised his hand and asked me the statistics of every culture. You asked me for cold, hard facts. What percent this. How percent that. I could give you all the percentages in the world, and you would find another to ask for. You walked with arrogance, as if you knew that you were a smart student, a handsome one, a person with their future etched in the stars.”

Jaemin fidgeted in his seat and looked apologetic, “Professor, I’ll get bette-”

“I don’t want you to,” His professor interjected.

“What?” Jaemin was confused.

“How did it feel, Jaemin?” He started, “To walk a little slower? To breathe a little more. In that village. To be the smartest person in the entire vicinity, but still feel like there were things that the people who lived there knew that you didn’t. How did it feel?”

Jaemin now finds his conversation fruitless. Why was his professor asking him this? Was he not supposed to be promoting Jaemin's future cut out in stone for him? He lets out a dry and airy laugh, “It felt good, Professor Soo. It felt good, alright? It felt like…” _Home_ . It felt like _home_.

It seemed as if that was all the old man wanted out of Jaemin, and he smiles at the ensuing silence. 

“Tell you what, Jaemin,” The old man leaned forward on his desk and clasped his hands, “Write your thesis. Write it to your heart’s content. And when you’re done, the offer is still there. You'll already have a job lined up at the research facility. Best in the country. The starting pay is $250,000 and from there, it just goes up with experience. You’re going to do great for yourself, son.”

Jaemin looks at him, and purses his lips. A long moment passed, enough time for Jaemin to think about his professor's cemented offer. The professor’s eyes seemed to bore into his soul, and it was intimidating to say the least. 

“Now that I gave you a minute to think about it,” The professor then says, “How does that sound? Does it sound as good as you remembered it? Before you left for Jebaek? Tell me, does it sound as good as before?"

Na Jaemin was at a loss for words. _You already have a job lined up at the research facility. Best in the country. The starting pay is $250,000_. Those words would have kept him awake in smug excitement if it had been months ago, but now, it just left a bittersweet feeling on his palette. It didn't sound as good, but he felt like trembling at the mere thought of it. 

He looked up at his professor and spoke, “Professor,” His voice came out a little pained, “I left, alright? I made my sacrifice. I left Jebaek. I left Renj- _him_ , behind. So please, just let me write this thesis and don’t question it. I need,” He emphasized the word need as if he was desperate, “I _need_ to make it worth it.”

As he heard the pain evident in his student’s voice, the professor softens himself and gives Jaemin a sad, but understanding smile before gesturing that he may leave, “Jaemin, dear god I hope it’s worth it.”

Jaemin, removing himself from the chair and the office, doesn’t look back as he walks out, but his mind were lingering on his professor’s last words. And he thinks, _dear God,_ he hopes that it is worth it too. 

  
  


He hopes it’s worth it. He hopes this as he sits in his desk chair in his loft at 7 P.M. Through the large windows, he could see the sun setting in the distance, but it wasn’t as beautiful as it usually was. The sky was trying to spite him, and Jaemin knew it. The sunset was a hazy one, with a blue castover, shielding the rays of the sun to actually penetrate through the city skyline. He remembered that he used to find Seoul sunsets beautiful, the way the golden rays would reflect off of the window panes of skyscrapers, making it look as if the city was ablaze. But now, it just felt sad. 

He sits at his desk with the new empty notebook open, completely blank. He needed to write his thesis. He _needed_ to start. In his right hand, he twirled his pen around his thumb and middle finger. The silver body of the pen glints as it twirls. He stares at the blank pages, unsure of where to start. On his left was the old leather bound notebook filled with notes from Jebaek. He knew that he needed to open it, for what else was he supposed to go on besides the notes that Renjun had given him? 

Jaemin took a deep breath and leaned back against his chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

How the _hell_ was he going to do this. 

He didn’t know. 

8 P.M. and he didn’t know. He has a single sentence written down. Something about societies and how far it has progressed. 

9 P.M. and he didn’t know. He has a paragraph written down. An introduction paragraph to the thesis and the topic at hand. 

10 P.M. and he didn’t know. _Fuck_ , nothing was consistent. He had only two paragraphs and it all felt empty. He had forced himself to open the notebook from Jebaek and he skimmed through the pages for inspiration, not wanting to read too much or else it might hurt a little too much. 

11 P.M. and he didn’t know. Another sentence. Jaemin felt like giving up, but he reminded himself. He reminded himself of the brutal fact that he had given up Renjun for this. He had given up the beautiful boy with the bright eyes and hair as dark as coal. The boy whose laugh lit up the world and whose adventures took him to another realm. He had given up Renjun for this. He had to do it. So he keeps trying. 

12 A.M. and he didn’t know. It was midnight, and he cracked open an energy drink. The slick carbonated liquid tingled the back of his throat as it went down, but he was going to finish at least the introductory chapter to the thesis if it was the last thing he did. He ran a hand through his hair and frustratedly hunched over the paper, staring at the little he had written in five _fucking_ hours. How does a person’s mind even go blank for five hours. 

1 A.M. and he still didn’t know. But there was something about the 1 A.M. time that causes a person’s mind to be more honest with itself. Maybe it was the onset of sleepiness. But Jaemin pushed himself out of the spinning chair and did 360 degree spins, a pen on his right finger twirling as he tries to think of what to write. 

At this point, he wonders. 1 A.M. Renjun must have been asleep by now. It was quiet there, in Jebaek, with the sound of crickets and wind to keep him company. Jaemin wonders if Renjun felt warm enough in his bed alone. He remembers what the boy looked like when he was sleeping. The black strands of hair that flew over his eyes. The long lashes resting gently. Soft, pink lips slightly pouted in his sleep. Jaemin wonders if Renjun is okay. The question burns a whole through his heart, and he knew this feeling wasn’t normal. 

When he had left the train station that day, he walked as if there were chains tied to his ankles. Even as he climbed into his seat, the weight of a thousand stones settled in his chest. He knew it wasn’t normal. He knew that feeling this way _was not_ normal. 

Jaemin thought that feeling would have gone away by now, two weeks after he had come back to Seoul. But it hasn’t. It hasn’t at all. When he thinks of Renjun, such as now, the feeling persists in his chest. And he finds himself missing the embrace of the smaller a little too much, his conversations with the other a little too much, just everything about Renjun, he misses a little too much. 

With Renjun on his mind as he slowly spins in his chair, he pauses at around 250 degrees. His eye caught something. The zipper of a pack. It’s bright glint reflected from the ceiling lights as he turned. 

_As Jaemin reached to open the pack, Renjun had shook his head no, “Open it only when you get back to Seoul.”_

_“Why?” Jaemin had laughed._

_Renjun hesitated, “Just do it. Promise me.”_

Well, he had been back in Seoul for almost two weeks now, and he had not touched the pack since he set it on the ground that evening that he had come back. He knew what was preventing him from doing so. That feeling. The crushing feeling in his chest. It was stopping him from opening it, afraid that it would only get worse. But as he sits there now at one in the morning trying to do _anything_ except write his thesis as he was supposed to, Jaemin convinces himself that now was the time to open it. He probably wasn't ready now, but he figures he might not ever be. 

He was not wrong. He was not ready. Not at all.

When he got out of his chair to sit on the floor next to the pack, he pulls it right in front of him. It was just as heavy as he remembered it, and even as strong as he was, it was a bit difficult to pull. He finds out soon why it was so heavy when he unzips it. Jaemin wasn’t sure why, but his heart beat a little faster. He knew it was a carving, but what was it going to be? A mountain? Those were pretty popular requests that Renjun had in his shop. He had seen a ton of mountain sculptures in Renjun’s shop, from the abundance of people who requested it. Or maybe a river. That was also a popular one. 

But as he opens it, Jaemin pursed his lips. He pursed his lips and stares inside.

Slowly, he reaches his hand into and pack and pulls out a small little carving, the size of a tealight at most. And then he pulls out another one. And another one. And another one. Five, six, seven, eight. Jaemin counted, his hands going numb as he does so. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. He was only glancing at them briefly, heart beating fast as he hurries to empty the bag. Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five. Each one looked different. A little different. But always with two people in it. Two people he recognized well, just with a different background on each carving. He was frantic. Thirty seven, thirty eight, thirty nine. There are so many of them, and each one was instantly recognizable. A waterfall. A bell tower. Salt flats. The roof of Jaemin’s house. A gazebo. A beach. He knows the scenes well. He knows the stories behind them. He knows how many of these he was going to find in this pack. He knows what number he was going to get to. Forty eight, forty nine. 

And then, it was empty. 

There was no fifty. Renjun had already given Jaemin the pack sitting on that ledge on that forty-ninth day. There was no fifty, and Jaemin knew it had been intentional. Renjun never wanted things to have a finale. Now that he had frantically emptied the pack of its contents, he sits back and looked at them splayed out in front of him. His heart aching slow. 

Small carvings, one for each day. Tokens so that now, Jaemin really _wouldn’t_ forget. He picks each one of them up and holds them in the palm of his hands as if the physical manifestation of their time together would disappear like a memory if he wasn’t careful. 

Na Jaemin studies each of them and finds his soul feeling more and more crushed with each one that he looks at. 

The two of them in a lavender field, carved out of purple marble. It takes Jaemin back to that night, where he told Renjun that they’d stay there forever, where time doesn’t exist and death will never find them. My god, what wouldn’t he do to hold that face in his hands and tell Renjun it was going to be alright. 

The two of them in the hot water of the springs, carved into blue azurite. It takes Jaemin back to the foggy afternoon where he wrapped his arms around the smaller in the hot spring water, basking the day away. He would hand over his soul to experience that again.

Jaemin goes through every one of them like this, and his head becomes clearer and clearer with each one he picks up and relives. It becomes clearer of a realization he had failed to acknowledge until it was now and it was too late. It felt like the world had gone silent when he left Renjun, and he was beginning to understand that friends don’t just feel that way for one another. It felt like a hurricane of emotion when he goes through these carvings, reliving the memories, and he was beginning to understand that friends don’t just want to see each other 24/7, want to hold each other, want to be with one another like this. 

He was coming to a terrifying realization, one he should have had two weeks ago. 

A realization that becomes cemented into his being with every little carving he picked up that served as a token of something he had stupidly given up. A little reminder of the dumb sacrifice he had made. The perfect hand to hold. The perfect eyes to look into. The perfect voice to fall asleep to. The perfect _person_. 

It _hurt_. Fuck, it hurt so bad. Because all at once, Jaemin lets it come soaring in, at 1 o'clock in the morning. 

He lets the pain soar through his system, making every moment and every thought hurt. Making everything around him look ugly and dismal, because it had no ties to Renjun. The coldness of his bed, ugly and dismal. The emptiness of his walls, ugly and dismal. The lack of Renjun right there and then in his arms, ugly and _dismal_. 

If Jaemin did not know then, then he knows now: a crush did _not_ feel like this. A simple attraction could _never_ feel like this. Maybe he had never experienced an emotion like this before, but as he sits there on the ground with a heavy pain in his chest and mind, he knew this was not as simple as a crush. He knew that when he closes his eyes, he wasn’t supposed to see Renjun. He knew that when he sleeps at night, he wasn’t supposed to think of Renjun and only Renjun. 

It was now that Jaemin thought back to their conversation, right after Renjun had confessed and they laid in the smaller’s bed as the storm ran its course, and the raven-haired beauty spoke to him. 

_“Do you love me?”_ Renjun had asked him. 

_“Do you love me?”_ Renjun had _fucking_ asked him, he replayed the moment in his head, fist clenching at his sides as he palms his face with his other hand in the worst frustration he had ever felt. 

Renjun, Huang Renjun, had _fucking_ asked him, if Jaemin loved him, and what had Jaemin said? 

“ _I don’t know,_ ” Jaemin had said. I don’t fucking know. Jaemin thinks back on it now and he stares at the carvings on the ground, and then, at 1 in the morning, in the dead of the night, Jaemin begins laughing to himself. 

He tilts his head back, sitting there on the floor surrounded by tokens of everything that screamed _Come back to Renjun,_ and laughed. He laughs and laughs, like a madman. He would have even been scared of himself if he saw the sight. He laughs until in the corner of his eye, he feels the slight prickle of water. _Fuck_ , he cursed to himself, and palmed it away. He blinks more away and curses. But even then, Jaemin continues to laugh. 

There was no humor in it, but just sadness and irony. Irony of the fact that Renjun wanted Jaemin to forget, yet sends him off with these gifts that ensures that he never would. 

Sadness because now he knew. When Renjun had asked him then if Jaemin loved him, he had stupidly said _I don’t know_. But now, he knew. He knew his answer well, and he would give anything to go back in time and tell Renjun his answer. 

But knowing that he couldn’t go back in time revealed to him a bigger truth. And this was a truth that he now _also_ knew. 

The truth that he had just lost, undoubtedly and undeniably, the love of his damn life. 

  
  


It’s 2:30 A.M. And Na Jaemin sits at his desk again. On a shelf, he had neatly organized the carvings by days and he stares at it, heart still heavy from his too late realization. He could go back. Jaemin could go back to Jebaek. Pack up all of his things and get on the next train, but it wasn’t as simple as that. Not yet, at least. Jaemin knew that there was something he needed to do. He thought back to a conversation he had with Renjun once, on the side of a broken down house that sat in the middle of a yellow wheat field. The topic of that day had been occupation, and Jaemin remembers it well. He won’t go into details now, but the conversation came back to him when he realized that what he felt for Renjun was something _deeper_ , something stronger: the strongest of all emotions. 

And so now he sits in that desk again. 

He looks at the clock. 

It was 2:36 A.M. That number. 236. Curious how it showed up everywhere, as if reminding Jaemin that there was a second chance out there for him to take, that somewhere out there, a new beginning was waiting. Jaemin stares at the time. 

He picks up his pen, but he doesn’t twirl it. No, it sits right in between his fingertips for the first time without fidgeting, and he tears out the page he had already written earlier until the notebook was blank again. He does not twirl his pen, for it was a habit he had formed when he had no idea what to write. But now he did. He knew exactly what he wanted to write. 

And so, right then, Jaemin pressed the ink to the paper, and began writing. 

He began writing his thesis. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It was hot. And sticky. Humidity clung to the air like a second skin, and within minutes of being outside, any given person would be drenched in a sheen of sweat. Because they were in the mountains, a breeze would pull through once in a while. But the summer heat was excruciating to bear in Jebaek, where air conditioning was not available. 

It had been around three and a half months, and August had not been kind to Renjun. Neither had May, June, or July. 

Huang Renjun had managed to get back up on his feet and put on the happy, able-to-do-everything smile that he had before, and convince the whole village of Jebaek that he was doing okay. And to a certain extent, he was. He was no longer crying every day, holed up in everyone else’s house but his own, in fear of his own bed, of his own walls. It had taken him a while to get back into his own bed, preferring rather to sleep on his couch, but he finally forced himself to. But even to this day, it was not easy. It always felt as if something was _missing_. As if someone was missing. 

Renjun still avoids walking past Jaemin’s old home, or heading to anywhere that was heavily laced with their memories. Jebaek was full of beautiful adventures. Waterfalls, grottos, the salt flats, the streams, the hills, the mountains. But Renjun had acknowledged that he will never see them in the same way again after Jaemin, and that it will be a much, much longer time until he is able to go to any of those places again. 

Renjun still does not go to his field, for it still reminded him of quiet nights on the raggedy bench where Jaemin used to join him on occasion. Everything still felt muted, as if the world’s saturation had been turned down. But Renjun makes himself believe that if he lives long enough in this muted world, it will start to feel normal and he might forget what it felt like to be with Na Jaemin. 

He was doing okay. He convinces himself this. He was doing okay. He repeats to himself. His friends no longer mention Jaemin around him, and neither does anyone else for that matter. He’s grateful, because he thinks about Jaemin enough as it is by himself. 

It had been three and a half months. He’ll just round it to four, since it was the 15th of August. Jaemin had graduated by now. Most likely working. Was the man happy? Did he still think of Renjun? For some reason, that question made his heart patter a little bit, but it hurt more than it healed. 

It was still hard, because once a person loves like how he loved, then how could anything ever be the same? Renjun had to learn to live like this. He had to learn how to live feeling as if a part of himself was missing, as if he was maxed out at 50% happiness with the other 50% sitting in a loft somewhere in Seoul. 

The end of April was when Jaemin had left. And May had taken all of the life out of him. Renjun woke up and went about his routine like a corpse. There was no life, there was no energy. Everything he did reminded him of Jaemin. It still did. June had been a little better, but the pain was still there. July fared about the same. And it was now the middle of August, and Renjun wished it was easier. 

He wished that it was easier to forget. There was something bittersweet about the time that had passed. Renjun went from knowing everything about Jaemin’s life and his every day happenings to knowing nothing at all, left only to wonder what all had transpired within the past three and a half months. He wonders if it gets easier.

If Jaemin never loved him to begin with, it must have been easier for the man to move on with his life, right? Renjun thought this to himself and pursed his lips. It felt bitter to think so, because Renjun was still here, in Jebaek, and still loving someone who had left months ago. 

Renjun wakes up early in the morning, and he heads down to the watering hole before the sun rises. He no longer had someone to help him out, and it was just him again. Jeno, feeling bad that Jaemin, someone who didn’t even live in Jebaek, was able to help Renjun, had promised Renjun that he would also try helping him occasionally. Renjun appreciated the offer, but Jeno was a slow reader when it came to the guidebook and was still working on it. So in the meantime, Renjun is by himself once more. 

Filtering and transporting, over and over again. This was the one place that he had no choice but to go to, even when it reminded him of Jaemin, of a man who cared about him enough to go out of his way to help him like this. He had no choice. Renjun works silently, only humming a tune to himself occasionally, and when he finishes, he cleans everything up and heads back to the village. 

He lays in his bed then until the afternoon comes. This is when the heat is the worst. At this time, barely anyone is out on the cobblestone streets of Jebaek. The bamboo houses stood still in the quiet midday sun. A dog barks occasionally. Birds fluttered. A warm breeze ripped through the mountains, but it didn't make a sound because it was such a hot wind. The windchimes that hung above some people's doors didn't dare move. 

When the sun begins to go away a little, Renjun goes on with his other village tasks. He walks through his living room, a large stack of mail laying on the table unopened. He hadn't checked up on anything in his life ever since he had been like this. He wasn't sure he wanted to. His carvings were slow. Business was going as usual, but his desire to get in there and put out pieces was slower. But he does it anyways, a little bit a day. And then he goes out and tends to small things around Jebaek, back to being its caretaker in a sense. 

At night, he no longer goes to his corn fields. His friends notice this, but they never say anything. They knew why. So instead, Renjun just goes back into his room and stays there thinking until he could go to sleep. It was a pathetic cycle, one he was hoping to break. But he figures that maybe it just took more time. More time, right? 

And then, he wakes up and does it all over again. 

The next morning, the cycle repeats. And then the next. And then the next.

It had been a dark morning, with a castover in the clouds that it looked as if it was going to rain today. Perfect weather for staying in, Renjun thought as he tended to the morning task. He didn't even need to think about it, his arms just moved. He had been doing this for so long, that getting used to doing it by himself again after Jaemin left was not a big problem. Jeno had began helping him out once in a while as a friendly gesture, but for the most part, it was still him. 

When he finished, he goes into his room and lays there until the sun rises. 9 A.M. and he hears the birds chip. Again, it sounded less melodic than before. His limbs felt tired and he wouldn’t mind laying in bed for the rest of the day, but he realized that was all he ever felt like doing. It was pathetic and he knew it. He hears a light knocking on his bedroom door around 9:14 A.M. and the person lets themselves in. Mrs. Rin stood at the door frame and walks over to sit on the edge of Renjun’s bed. 

Renjun pulled himself up to a sitting position and smiled sweetly at the lady. If it was fake, she wouldn’t have known. 

“Mrs. Rin,” Renjun said, “Is everything alright?”

The lady nods, “I’m doing fine, Renjunnie. How about you? Have you been doing well? I’ve noticed you’ve been a lot more active lately. That’s good.” 

Renjun’s neck heats up a little bit. The way she said that made it sound obvious that the whole village knew what Renjun was going through and he cleared his throat, nodding, “Yeah,” He said a little emptily, “I’m okay."

"Listen," Mrs. Rin says, "If you ever need to talk to someone, just know that i-"

"Mrs. Rin, I appreciate the gesture, but please," Renjun interrupts. He closes his eyes then and takes a deep breath, "Please stop treating me as if there's something wrong with me. I'm not a pitiful charity case."

"But Renjunnie, you've be-" She started, but Renjun couldn't listen to it anymore.

He interrupts, getting to the point, "Was there something you needed?”

Mrs. Rin sighs and gives up. She knows how stubborn the boy can be, and she blames it on his parents if she was being honest. However, that being said, she knew this conversation was pointless.

And so Mrs. Rin shakes her head no, “Not exactly, but Renjun, you haven’t been answering your mail or opened letters in weeks, maybe months.”

“Oh,” Renjun let out. He wasn’t sure why he needed to, but Renjun hadn’t opened letters only because he had been too preoccupied with doing nothing, “I’m sorry, was there something I missed?” 

"Yes," Mrs. Rin nodded, "Something big."

"What is it?" He asks. 

She pursed her lips, “Well, a certain man had been sending letters to you occasionally, and you’ve never written back. So he’s taken to writing to me instead, hoping that I could carry on the message.”

 _A certain man._ Was it who Renjun thought it was? His heart began beating sporadically, and he wasn’t sure if he was feeling hopeful or immense sadness. He didn't want it to be. He told Jaemin not to write to him. Not to visit him. Not to associate with him again. So why was this feeling of hope blooming in his chest anyways?

Renjun opened his lips, “Mrs. Rin, is it J-”

“It’s not him, Renjunnie,” Mrs. Rin said before Renjun could even utter out a name. 

He hated that he felt disappointed, after all this time and after all of the convincing he did to himself to believe that they were better off like this, “Oh.” 

He knew his tone came off disappointed, so Renjun clears his throat, “So who is it?” 

Mrs. Rin moves until she sits comfortable and then clasped her hands, “A businessman by the name of Choi Yong Guk.” 

Renjun narrowed his eyes. The name was familiar. Renjun had read about him in some books before, but only remembered little details. A huge investor, and has large shares in several companies dealing with humanities and the promotion of visual and literary arts. 

“Since when did Choi Yong Guk know me?” Renjun asks suspiciously.

Mrs. Rin looks off to the side, and Renjun notices it. She was hiding something. But she then covers it up by saying, “You’ll see.”

Renjun was cautious, “What...does he want from me, exactly?” 

“To commission your carvings,” Mrs. Rin said, “For $7,000 a piece.” 

Renjun choked on his own saliva, and it took him a minute to compose himself. He was seeing stars. That amount of money for a _carving_ was on par with great artists, and Renjun was nowhere near deserving of it. $7,000 was more than what many people made in weeks, and to think that an entrepreneur was willing to give Renjun this much per _piece_ was unbelievable. It was even more unbelievable that he was asking Renjun, a nobody artist that sells to merchants from a tiny village named Jebaek out in the mountains and _hours_ away from Seoul. It was all so sudden. It was all insane. 

“This is so sudden. Mrs. Rin, we’re being scammed,” Renjun says. 

“It’s not sudden, Renjun,” Mrs. Rin says, “He’s been trying to contact you for a month now, sending several letters. And you haven’t replied to any of them. It’s only sudden because you decide to catch up on life now.”

Renjun looked guilty and he looked down at his lap. Silence brewed between them. 

But then Renjun speaks, “$7,000…”

He opens his palm out to Mrs. Rin, “Let me see the letter, please.”

The woman then reaches into the pocket of his dress and fishes out a letter, sealed with a wax crest and finished with Choi Yong Guk’s company logo on the back. It looks real. Renjun hurriedly fishes the letter out of the envelope and rakes his eyes across it. 

“...wants to commission Huang Renjun…up to $7,000 a piece…” He mumbles as he reads through it, “...inspired by something he came across...meet in Seoul for detai…”

And then Renjun looks up, “He wants me to meet him in Seoul?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Rin says hesitantly, “It-”

“I’m not going,” Renjun then abruptly interrupts. 

Mrs. Rin gives him a concerned look, “Renjun, if this is about Jaemin, then I-”

“It’s not about Jaemin,” Renjun looked at her accusingly. He was telling the truth. Seoul was huge, and he knew the chances of running into the one person he wanted to avoid was slim, “It’s about how absolutely sketchy this sounds. A huge entrepreneur like him? A small village artist like me? What is this? A movie? Mrs. Rin, with all due respect, you have to understand why I’d be a little hesitant. This is most likely a scam.”

Mrs. Rin lets him finish, then sighs, gesturing to the envelope, “What kind of scam comes with a first class train ticket to Seoul, a booking at an expensive hotel, and dinner reservations at an even more expensive restaurant, Renjun?” 

Renjun gives her a look and then opens the envelope further to see that he was right. All three of those itineraries were there and set for three days from now. He could no longer deny that this was fake, for no scammer would make the cost of getting Renjun to Seoul just as pricey as the payment itself. 

The smaller’s voice goes quiet, and he puts down the letter and the envelope, “Mrs. Rin, I don’t need all of that money. I have everything I need, and I make a decent living myself.”  
The woman smiled gently but then pursed her lips, “You don’t need it, Renjun. I wouldn’t either. But you could be helping out a lot of people here with it. And you wouldn’t ever have to worry about having customers. You’re dependent on merchants selling your carvings, and it’s doing well for you, but that’s never stable. Just take his commission. You’d just work from Jebaek. There’s so much you could do for Jebaek if you ju-”

“You’re trying to guilt trip me,” Renjun gave her a sly, but joking look. He knew that even if that was the case and Mrs. Rin wanted to guilt trip him, she was doing so for a good reason.

The woman laughed, “A little bit. But there’s something else, Renjun,” This time she hesitated, “He wrote me another letter, this time only to me. And he explained a little bit about how it _had_ to be you. And Renjun, I think,” She paused, “I think you should go.”

Now, Renjun was really confused, “What did he tell you?”

“I…” She thought about it before looking apologetically, “I can’t tell you, Renjunnie. You have to trust me. You just have to trust me.”

“Mrs. Rin, you know how much you’re asking of me, right?” Renjun says, “You want me to board a train heading to Seoul, to meet a stranger, and you won’t tell me why?” 

“I know it sounds strange, but Renjun,” Mrs. Rin almost pleaded, “You have to go. This isn’t just about the money. It’s also about _you_.”

“What does that even _mean_?” Renjun narrowed his eyes.

Mrs. Rin did not answer, but instead offered a small but pleading smile, “If I never ask anything of you again, Renjun, then I ask this of you. Go.” 

The boy could hear the seriousness in her tone, and he was slightly surprised. He had no idea why Mrs. Rin was so adamant he should go, but he knew that she always had her reasons. He had never seen the woman act like this with him before, and Renjun had a feeling that he should just trust her. 

Mrs. Rin would never do anything that would hurt him, only help him. However, he was extremely hesitant. He was still in his grieving period, and now some entrepreneur wanted him to go to the city where the person he love lived? Fuck. 

Regardless, ultimately, Renjun gives in, figuring it will distract him from the nothingness that he had been doing, “Fine.” 

“Renjun, I’m glad you fi-” Mrs. Rin began with a smile.

“But Mrs. Rin,” Renjun says with a firm voice.

She stopped in her words, taking note of Renjun’s almost dangerous tone, “Yes?”

“I _hope_ you know what you’re doing,” Renjun says, “You _better_ know what you’re doing.”

  
  


It was August the 20th, and Renjun sat in the train cabin on his way to Seoul. The thick leather seats were considered luxurious, but felt strange, for it was not something he was used to. This entire experience left a strange feeling in his gut, and the train did not help much. All he was reminded of was his trip to Seoul with Jaemin that one time. He fidgeted with his fingers and looked down at his lap, pushing the painful memories away. Why couldn’t he forget him already. He carried a small pack with him. With essentials. 

Although it was only a few hour train ride, it took forever in Renjun’s mind as he sat there in nervousness. He had no idea what to expect, and all he was going on was blind trust for Mrs. Rin. He knew that he had a talent with carving, but he did not know it was enough to earn him an expensive commission. It was shocking, and if Renjun shows up and it was all a hoax, he would not even be that surprised. 

When Renjun arrived at the train station in Seoul, he was greeted with the sound of loud and excessive honking, chattering, and all the noises of the city. It had now been four months since he had visited Seoul with Jaemin, and as it usually is with the city, so much had changed. It seems louder. Busier. There are more skyscrapers being built. Stores closed and new ones opened. Different people everywhere. Different songs blaring from the overhead speakers. 

He steps out of the compartment, not knowing exactly what to do until he spots a man with an earpiece and classic suit holding a sign with his name up in the air. _Well,_ Renjun thought to himself, _if this was fake, then they’re really going all out._

Waving, he walks over to the man, who introduces himself as Mr. Choi’s chauffeur, and in a matter of minutes, they were in a classic black Cadillac on their way to Renjun’s accommodation. 

It was a 20 story Park Hyatt hotel that screamed five stars just looking from its placement in the skyline alone. It had dark glass the color of obsidian, and cut at all the right geometric angles that sunlight flickered off of the building like shimmering coal. Renjun sat back in his seat, trying to breathe so that he didn’t get car sick. He never rode cars, so the sensation was strange to him. He makes small talk with the driver until he gets there, but most of the time, Renjun’s eyes were glued out the windows staring at the hecticness that is Seoul. 

Renjun’s room was excessive for what was a one night stay. It was a two room suite. One with the bedroom, a large square plan with floor to ceiling windows making up an entire wall that looked over the Han River. There were carpeted floors made from the finest Vicuna important right from Argentina. Warm lights outlined the bottom of the bed underneath the frame, making it look like the bed was floating. Tasteful art decorated the marble walls, with wood accents framing the transitions between the bedroom and the living area. The living area had a beautiful china cabinet with a variety of plates and porcelain decor. A white leather couch sat in the middle and surrounded a coffee table carved out of a geode. Even the bathroom was beautiful and elegant, with a free standing porcelain tub right up against huge windows looking down on the city. 

Renjun found it a little extra, for he was only going to be here for a night. It was almost overwhelming. But regardless, it was a nice gesture. In the closet was a variety of clothing, some his size and some of which were not. For variety. There was jewelry in the cabinets and Renjun ran his fingers across them. Money was definitely an appeal. 

6 P.M. was when the reservation at the restaurant came, and Renjun, after a bit of resting in his room, got himself ready. He was not used to wearing these kind of clothes, but he doesn’t doubt it looks beautiful on him. 

Renjun looks at himself in the full length mirror, and turns to see how he looks. A beautiful creamed color satin shirt adorned his body, and there was a middle cut where his chest was. It was not deep enough to be scandalous, but just enough to be tasteful. In the middle, he wore a drop necklace with a green jade pendant in the middle. The satin shirt had a smooth shine that looked beautiful when he turned. It was tucked into a pair of black and gray striped slacks that came to a skinny leg at his ankles, kind of like skinny jeans if instead of denim, it was made of the finest linen. His black hair was slightly styled up, and light but pretty makeup graced his eyes. Pink at the edges. His cheeks and lips were naturally pink, so he needed to put nothing else on it besides a little gloss. It was simple attire, but what Renjun felt most comfortable in. 

The chauffeur arrives once more around 5:30 P.M., just before the reservation was set, and they drive to the restaurant. The sun was less bright now, and less glaring in his eyes as they drove to the city, so Renjun finds himself relaxing a bit in his car. 

He asks the chauffeur what Mr. Choi was like, and he only had good words to share. He talked about Mr. Choi’s family, his children, his legacy, and his love for art, and suddenly, Renjun feels more at ease. 

The restaurant was on the waterfront of the Han River, and made of brown granite and stacked italian-style stones on the outside. It had beautiful shrubbery and landscaping done around the restaurant property overlooking the river, and single-paned windows that ran from the floor overlooking the river all the way to the high beamed 30 foot ceilings. Jazz music played inside, and a variety of white round tables held different types of people, all of whom were also dressed well and holding flutes of champagne or some beautiful cocktail. 

Renjun felt out of place, but he pushes away the feeling, knowing that this was just something he needed to do. The ambience in the restaurant was dark, with warm lighting scattered throughout and tealights in the middle of each table. And as the sun starts to go down a little, the romantic atmosphere of the restaurant was only emphasized. 

Renjun spots Mr. Choi from a distant table that sat near the high windows and the man stands up to enthusiastically greet Renjun. _Huh_ , Renjun thought to himself, _so this wasn’t a scam_. Mr. Choi was a man who has seen many years, evident by the salt and pepper gray in his hair and lines on his forehead. What saved him though, were the lines around his eyes, crow’s feet, evident that he had smiled a lot throughout his life. This comforted Renjun, along with the fact that the man had a comforting aura in of itself. 

They sit, and if Renjun was being honest, he could not understand the menu. It seemed as if Mr. Choi knew this, for the man orders for the both of them, asking Renjun to trust him because he knew what was good. Renjun thanks him for the train ticket here, the hotel, and Mr. Choi just waves his hand with a smile as if it was the least he could do.

“So Mr. Huang,” The man began. 

“Just call me Renjun, please,” Renjun politely requested, feeling strange that a man much older than him was addressing him professionally. 

The man laughed, and it was a happy one, “I was hoping you would say that, Renjun. I hate when it’s all business.”

Renjun smiles at him, and feels relaxed in front of the man. 

“Anyhow, Renjun,” Mr. Choi continued, “As you know, you’re here because I deeply, _deeply,”_ He emphasized the word again for extra effect, “want to commission your work. I’ve been completely won over, not to mention, I am in need for more sculptures rather than paintings, which is what I usually collect.”

Renjun nodded, sipping a little bit on the champagne flute. He wanted to ask why, but he felt as if that was too sudden of a question. He was still coming to terms with the fact that this wasn't a scam. 

“That being said, I want you to be relaxed with me first,” Mr. Choi prefaced, “I am a successful person, but before all of that, I am just a family man who loves art and literature, just like anyone else. The only difference is that,” And then the man begins laughing in the typical “Dad” fashion, “I can afford it.”

Renjun finds himself snorting a little, but he couldn’t help it because Mr. Choi had said this in a way that wasn’t arrogant, but almost just a joke. If the entrepreneur had intended to offend, it sure was not obvious. He was easy to talk to, which eased Renjun’s nerves. 

“So with that in mind, we can get to the business details later,” Mr. Choi put down the rules, “But in the meantime, I want to know you a little bit, and know Jebaek.” 

_Jebaek_. Renjun was confused for a moment as to how the man knew where he was from, but he figured that if he knew what his art looked like, then he probably could trace back where it come from. At this point, Renjun had assumed that some merchant had passed on his pieces to the city, and it made its way to Mr. Choi’s circle, but he would ask that later. 

In the meantime, Renjun humors the man in conversation, and tells him about his life and his place of living. It was a comfortable conversation, for Mr. Choi was around the same age as his own father, and had similar attitudes in the sense that they were both attentive and welcoming, so it was easy for Renjun to talk to him. 

Mr. Choi also has a habit of going off onto conversations of his own, enjoying to talk, maybe a bit more than he enjoys listening. Renjun had read of him before, but now, the businessman was going into detail of his holdings. How he came to invest when he was 15 years old with a balance of $300 in Christmas money, and how he turned that into an empire. Renjun listens as their food comes out. It was strange and nothing like what he had ever had before, but interesting nevertheless. 

Mr. Choi also talks about his several publishing companies that he owns because of his love for literature, and about the several other artists that he commissions for his circle of friends and homes across the country and a few in other countries. It was definitely a lifestyle that Renjun was not used to hearing about. 

Finally, about an hour later, Mr. Choi got down to business. Renjun listened intently, and it was nothing relatively interesting. Mr. Choi just explains how the commissioning process would work, and how Renjun would just work from Jebaek and occasionally come up to Seoul for viewings and small galas. It was nothing that was too out of Renjun’s comfort zone, besides the trips to Seoul. However, he assumes that those wouldn’t be too frequent. 

They talk business for a while, but ultimately, Renjun could not help himself. He felt as if he was comfortable enough with Mr. Choi to ask finally, the question that had been on his mind from the very beginning. 

“Mr. Choi, why are you choosing me?” Renjun asks, accidentally interrupting some minor detail that the man was going over. 

At the question, Mr. Choi smiled widely and rested his hands together, “Have I not told you yet? You’d think with all of the talking we’ve been doing, I would have mentioned it somewhere.”

Renjun pursed his lips and smiled, “No you haven’t.”

“Ah, well let me tell you,” Mr. Choi leaned forward at the table, “As you know, I am a man who loves literature. Collecting it, reading it, writing it even. I’ve written a few books on entrepreneurship myself. In fact, it’s hai-”

Renjun noticed he was getting off topic again, but thank goodness, this time, Mr. Choi caught himself. 

“I’m getting off topic again, aren’t I,” He let out a rambunctious laugh and cleared his throat, “Anyways, how well read are you, son?”

Renjun would say he was pretty well read for the most part, “A good amount, I read often.”

“Well, have you read _The Thesis_? It is one of the best selling works on the market right now,” Mr. Choi asked in anticipation. 

Renjun was confused, “The what?” 

“ _The Thesis_ ,” Mr. Choi clarified, “By N-”

Renjun didn’t hear the second part, but he was still confused, thinking that Mr. Choi was talking about any given thesis, since it was a broad term. To Renjun’s ears, it just sounded like he was saying ‘the thesis’ as in, any thesis out there. Because on paper, anyone could see that _The Thesis_ was a title. But when said out loud, no one could tell the difference.

He interrupts, “I’m sorry, sir. Which thesis? A million university students write a thesis. I’m not exactly sure which I’m supposed to read, since that’s a little broad.”

“ _The Thesis_ by Na Jaemin,” Mr. Choi interrupted and looked towards Renjun if there was any recognition. 

Wait, _what_?

Renjun needed to hear that again. What?

That name. Where had he heard that name before? Oh right, _every_ where inside of his mind. The name that had only been ushered in his head all these months, but he hadn't heard spoken out loud in a while. Besides Mrs. Rin once or twice, but there was no way Renjun was able to control her speech like he could with his friends. 

His blood ran cold and he felt frozen in his seat as he looked at the man who was commissioning him. That name. The name that had been on his mind for months, and now, it was just spoken casually through the lips of a man he had never met prior. Mr. Choi used the words “The Thesis” in the context that it was a title, but Renjun heard it as ‘the thesis by Na Jaemin’, as in any general thesis. And his mind thinks immediately to the anthropology thesis. The anthropology thesis, of course. 

“Who?” Renjun needed repeating. He _needed_ repeating. That name. That fucking name. 

“Na Jaemin,” Mr. Choi repeated, “Brilliant boy, I tell you. My company was actually the one who published him. Actu-”

Renjun’s voice came out a little hoarse, but the words still make it out of his lips, “Mr. Choi, what does this have to do with me.”

“Right, right,” Mr. Choi kept on speaking as if everything was normal, “I was absolutely smitten with his work, and so I paid him a visit. He has a nice little loft in downtown Seoul. Very nice. Has f-”

Mr. Choi was droning on again, and Renjun couldn’t listen to any of it. Every sound was becoming white noise and he was still shocked to his core. He only paid attention again when the man gets back on topic. 

“So I come into his workspace, and there are these beautiful carvings on the shelves. So many of them, beautiful carvings with the stories from _The Thesis_ carved right into it.” Renjun was still taking The Thesis as just _a_ thesis. Mr. Choi continues, very expressively with his hands, “So I tell the boy, right? I tell him, ‘Son, they’re beautiful. Where did you get these?’”

Renjun swallows his spit, but he listens, body still frozen. He has horror in his eyes. So this was why he was chosen.

“And not only does he give me the information to one of the merchants that sells your work, but he tells me that those carvings were the inspiration for his work,” Mr. Choi makes a show with his hands as if this was all exciting, “Even better! I knew it had to be you I commissioned.” 

Renjun felt numb, and his voice was quiet as he asked, “He said that?”

 _Inspiration for his work_ . Of course it would be, Renjun told himself. It was his anthropology thesis that he did _in_ Jebaek, so of course, since the carvings were of Jebaek, it would make sense that it was the inspiration for his thesis. Even then, Renjun found it odd. Since when were research theses critically acclaimed in literature and considered to be bestsellers. Since when did non-scientific literary companies publish anthropology and sociology thesis? He still wasn’t getting the hint that “The Thesis” was a title, and not a phrase. 

“Yes, have you met him? Or did you just sell to him through your merchant?” Mr. Choi asks but then before giving Renjun a chance to speak, he continues excitedly as if he had a surprise, “Because I have a surprise.”

Renjun’s throat went dry, and he was praying it wasn’t what he was guessing, “A surprise?” His voice came out cracked. 

“So,” Mr. Choi looked at his watch, “Since I assume you haven’t met each other, I thought what other way to celebrate the author than to let him meet the man behind the carvings that inspired his story. And then I thought, what other way to celebrate you, the artist, than to let you meet the man whose writing led me to give you this commission?” 

“What?” Renjun’s voice was filled with panic, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He could run. He could definitely run. He could say he needed to use the bathroom. But his mind went blank and he could only sit there frozen in his seat. 

“He doesn’t know you’re here either, so it’s a nice little surprise for the both of you,” Mr. Choi exclaimed, “I invited him a bit later than our reservation, since I wanted to discuss the commission with you before we three mingle. But he should be here soon. I had set the ti- Oh look, speak of the devil, here he is.” 

Mr. Choi exclaimed while standing up and looking somewhere behind Renjun. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ It’s been almost four months. What does he do. What does he say. How does he act. Renjun stood frozen in his seat, not sure how to handle this. It felt as if a million thoughts are going on through his head at once, and he was panicking. He thought of the last time they saw each other. How they left off. How it was implied that it was the last time they’ll ever see each other. Renjun had said this knowing full well that if he ever saw Jaemin again, he wouldn’t be able to work up the same control. But now here they were, and Renjun was frozen like a deer in the headlights. 

Mr. Choi calls out as if Jaemin was an old friend and walked past Renjun, “Jaemin.”

And then he hears it. Renjun hears it: the voice that had been haunting his nightmares for months. The voice that he had been fully prepared to never hear again, but now that he heard it, he realized he was never prepared at all. The voice that crept its way into Renjun’s heart and tore it out piece by piece. The sound to his ears reminded him of sweet midnights, lavender fields, afternoon swims, and absolute and utter _heartbreak_. 

“Mr. Choi,” Jaemin spoke, in greetings to the businessman.

Jaemin’s voice. Perfect. Deep. Heartbreaking. A voice he thought he'd never hear again. His heart was made of glass. And the sound of Jaemin's voice was the knife that cracked it. 

Renjun just stays here in his seat, frozen and unable to turn around to look at them. Every inch of his body wanted to move, but he couldn’t. He was completely paralyzed on the spot, wondering how on Earth the world made it turn out this way.

He hears Mr. Choi pat Jaemin on the back, “I have a surprise for you, Jaemin. There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

“Oh?” He hears Jaemin say, with a bit of a surprised tone, “Sure, I’d love to.”

Mr. Choi guides the man over to their table, and Renjun grips the arm of his chair as they walk back over. He grips it so tightly that he was surprised it didn’t break.

And it all happened so fast, yet so slow that Renjun wasn’t even sure what was going on. 

One moment, all he could hear was Na Jaemin’s voice talking to Mr. Choi behind him. And the next, they were walking towards the table where Renjun was sitting. Mr. Choi gestures his arms out towards Renjun, and the man accompanying him, the _perfect_ man accompanying him looks over. 

And he catches Renjun's eye. In that moment, as crazy as it sounds, Renjun swears up and down that time paused.

And in that split second, Renjun felt all that he had worked for crumble to the ground at the sight of the man that he had tried so hard to forget all these months. All of the walls he has built up to shield himself falling tragically to oblivion. Fire wrapped around his heart and burnt it to ask. Nothing could save him now.

Jaemin stood there, and he looked more impeccable than Renjun had ever seen him. In a full suit, from head to toe, Jaemin looked as handsome as ever. The suit fitted his body everywhere. It clinched at the waist. It was full at the broad shoulders. And the pants were a perfect fit. Underneath, he wore a white collared shirt that was ironed perfectly, and the satin lapels were tasteful. His hair was dyed a different color. Lighter brown, but still resembled the beautiful shade that Renjun remembered him in when he saw him last. And his face. _His face_. Renjun wanted to curse the heavens just looking at his face. The same perfect, chiseled jaw. The same perfect, cupid's boy above his lips. The strong eyebrows. The gaze that felt as if he was staring into his soul. The only difference was that Na Jaemin's eyes felt a bit more aged now, as if he was a bit more mature than he was when he left. Had that much time passed?

Renjun felt his breath get knocked out of his chest, and he couldn’t say anything. Looking at Jaemin now, all of the memories he had been trying to forget rushes back. It felt as if he tried to put a bandaid on a gaping wound. It was as if he tried to hold back the ocean with a one foot wooden dam. As if he tried to battle a sand storm with a shovel. Or pick up water with a slotted spoon. Trying to push his past and _current_ emotions away was like a tiny ant trying to move a mountain. It was like trying to drink up the sea. Like counting each speck of sand in the desert. 

Because looking at Jaemin now, the handsome, perfect person he was, Renjun gets hit with it all. The kisses. The cuddles. The nights spent together doing something stupid. The mornings spent together probably also doing something stupid. The conversations. Everything. The man in front of him may be in a suit, and in a city that wasn’t the one they shared, but it was still the man he had swept him off his feet and tore his heart apart. Right there, in the restaurant, seeing Na Jaemin for the first time in months, Renjun wanted to collapse into himself.

Being here solidified the one thing Renjun knew but never truly felt the impact of until now: the fact that he was still in love with Na Jaemin. 

And staring at the man in front of him, he could not believe it. He could not believe that fate had it turn out this way. Who _fucking_ knew that Jaemin’s publisher would track him down like this? He couldn’t comprehend this.

Na Jaemin couldn’t either, as he tried to figure out if he was just seeing things or if this was real. He still stood standing, matching the smaller’s gaze with his own. Around them, the restaurant continued to move but they were frozen. People chattering. Boats on the Han River running by. Jazz music playing. But the two of them were in complete shock. 

And it felt like a trick. Like Jaemin was asleep and dreaming, and no one was going to bother to wake him up before this got too painful. Renjun looked absolutely beautiful. The striking black hair. The satin shirt. The pink lips that used to be his. Sitting right there. Sitting right there in front of him. Huang Renjun was a masterpiece, and Jaemin was sure he was seeing things. 

The last time they had seen each other, Renjun would not look at him. But as fate would have it turn out, in the end, that was all that Renjun would be doing right now: looking at Jaemin. Ironic. 

Renjun felt shocked to his core and Mr. Choi sensed something between the two, but just boiled it down to the shyness of meeting a new person. 

So urging Jaemin to take a seat next to him, Mr. Choi gestures between the two of them, “Jaemin, this is Huang Renjun. He is the artist that carved the figures in your room and inspired your work. For without him, you wouldn’t be here. Isn’t this great? That you’re meeting the man whose art inspired you?”

Jaemin didn’t need to be explained. He knew where the carvings had came from. He received it from the hands of the artist himself. Mr. Choi didn’t understand. Mr. Choi did not understand that the carvings were not just some purchase he made, and it just happens to inspire his work. The carvings _were_ real. They were his. They were the moments of _his_ life. And a direct product of a friendship that was so intimate, so raw, so _real_. Mr. Choi was under the impression that the carvings inspired his thesis. But the truth of the matter was that the contents of his thesis inspired the carvings. But he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. 

“And Renjun, this is Na Jaemin. He took inspiration from your art, and wrote _The Thesis_ based off of it. Without him, _you_ wouldn’t be here,” Mr. Choi explained with a grin, urging that they greet each other.

But nothing. Just silence, besides the sound of jazz playing, forks and plates clattering, and the soft conversations of all the posh people around them. Mr. Choi looked back and forth between the two, wondering what was happening, and he suddenly wondered if this had been a good idea in the first place. 

Renjun just kept staring at Jaemin, trying to make himself believe this was a mirage. But no, the man was there. Handsome, and perfect. He was there. Renjun could not breathe. How else could it feel? To love someone and have not seen them in months. To love someone and have tried so hard to erase them from your life just to have all of that hard work destroyed. To love someone and have them stand in front of you like this? It was indescribable. 

Finally, after some time, Jaemin reaches out a hand towards Renjun, and leans forward, “It’s nice to meet you again, Renjun.”

 _Again_ . Renjun remembered the first day Jaemin had come back to the village and met him that fateful morning. Renjun had remembered that as they parted ways, Jaemin had intentionally told him _It was nice meeting you, Renjun_ . And at the time, the wording was appropriate. Because to an extent, they were meeting for the first time then, after fourteen years of radio silence. But now, as Jaemin repeats those words, the word _again_ is attached to it, because how could it not? So many memories had transpired since that first time reuniting that it would be a sin to say they’ve never met prior. 

There was something bittersweet about the way Jaemin spoke to him. _It’s nice to meet you again_ , as if a long time had passed and they were strangers no longer connected to each other’s lives. It tugged at his heart, and Renjun suddenly wanted to disappear. 

Renjun pursed his lips, feeling the sensation coming back into his body slowly and he looks into Jaemin’s eyes. He shouldn’t have, because he was just reminded once more of how much he loved those eyes. He looks at the outstretched hand. So this was how they were going to be. Not strangers, but not quite who they used to be. 

Renjun reaches out to take it. His voice came out small, “It’s nice to meet you again.”

It felt like electricity. The moment their hands touched, it felt like all of the power had been sucked out of the room and into each other’s fingers. It had been so long since he had felt this touch that he forgot that he was able to breath. A burning sensation spread throughout his body. 

Jaemin sits down in the seat and scoots his chair forward. 

Mr. Choi clapped his hands, trying to clear the strange air, “Ah, so you two have met before? I must look like a fool then, introducing you.”

Renjun pursed his lips and his words don’t come out as sure as they usually do, “Once or twice.”

Jaemin chuckles while reaching over to swirl a flute of champagne between his fingers. The sound of his chuckling brought back so many memories that it hurt. Jaemin spoke with a vibrato, “Something like that.”

Mr. Choi could sense some history between the two, and he tries to lighten the mood. He cracks some jokes, but all Renjun could do was force out a smile. He was _here_ , sitting at the same table as Na Jaemin in some fancy restaurant in Seoul. Mr. Choi tries to make it lighthearted. But everyone could feel it, a heavy weight on their chest. The businessman shoves all of the negative tension away though, or at least, he tries to. And they try to converse normally.

Renjun responds when Mr. Choi asks him a question, and Jaemin does the same. When Mr. Choi tries to prompt the two to talk to each other, both of them humor the man, but it felt as if they couldn’t have a conversation here. Not like this. Not now. 

It didn’t matter too much, for Mr. Choi was a talkative man, and had no problem carrying most of the conversation, only needing the occasional word of agreement or chide remark from either of them. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but Renjun never felt more on edge. Everything just felt like noise, and all of his senses were becoming heightened. He could practically smell Jaemin's cologne from where he sat, nose accustomed to the scent. It burned at his soul because it was a scent he hadn't smelled in so long. It was one he hated that he missed. 

This was torture to his heartbroken soul, and he had thought he did so well. The last time they saw each other, Renjun thought he had done so well to set it up so that they don’t have to see each other again. So that Renjun could get over Jaemin, and not have to worry about falling right back into Jaemin’s eyes if he ever saw them again. It felt as if he had done all of that for nothing, as if he had prevented himself from looking back at Jaemin one last time for nothing, for the universe will have its way. The universe will _always_ fucking have its way. 

Jaemin was not shy about looking up at Renjun through his styled up hair. His right hand always at the base of a champagne flute or on a fork with his dish. But his eyes, they were drinking up Renjun as if this was the water he needed to drink after months of walking through the dry desert. Renjun looked back, but he didn’t want to. It was as if his body made him, as if his body was mad at him for denying the man he loved all these months and took control without him. 

But every time he met Jaemin’s eyes, immense sadness filled his being. He thinks of the boy who wakes up early in the morning so that Renjun doesn’t have to. He thinks of the boy who undoes his dress for him after a festival and tells him he was beautiful. He thinks of the boy who swims with him in the lake and talks about the life span of lizards with him. It _hurt_. 

At some point, Mr. Choi sits up from the table after paying the bill and thanks both Renjun and Jaemin for their time. 

“It’s getting late and I am a very busy man,” Mr. Choi said with a laugh but gives both Renjun and Jaemin a warm hug, “Jaemin, it is nice to see you again. Renjun, I’m looking forward to working with you. I will have no regrets, I know it.” 

Renjun smiles kindly at the man and thanks him for his time and generosity.

“Ah,” Mr. Choi pauses, “Renjun, do you need my chauffeur to-”

“I’ll take him back to his hotel, don’t worry about it,” Jaemin interrupted with a smile, and Renjun did not open his mouth to reject. He was hopeless. 

Mr. Choi leaves, and after gathering their things, Renjun and Jaemin exited the side of the building. The entire time, Renjun’s heart was beating. He knew they were about to be alone. They were about to be alone again for the first time after months of not seeing each other. How was he supposed to handle this. Just looking at Jaemin now was painful to his heart, and he doesn’t think he could last the night without wanting to run away. He was surprised he hadn't already. 

Immediately after exiting the side, they were hit with the warm August breeze. Since this was a waterfront restaurant, on their left was the Han River, waves slapping against the sides of the cement bank. The night skyline was stunning, and the twinkling lights of the skyscrapers were pretty and almost made up for the lack of stars. Where they exited, the side doors, no one else came from. So it was just each other alone for the first time in months. 

Jaemin walks out first, footsteps slow and he slides his hands in the pocket of his slacks, gaze staring out at the Han River, and its churning black waters. The current was easy tonight, but the sound of it flowing was still very evident. 

Renjun lets the door close behind him and he stands just a meter away from the man he would have given up his soul to be close with before. Jaemin stands there, with so many unspoken words between the two that it was impossible to know where to start. 

And because of that, there was silence for a while. What could possibly be said to fill in months worth of conversation. The air was melancholy, for neither of them forgotten how they had ended things off. 

They say that what comes with love is pain. And these words had never rung more true, as Huang Renjun feels that pain filling up every single crack and crevice of his being. To love so deeply and so truly, and to try so hard to push that away for it all to come back at once. That was a pain Renjun does not wish on his worst enemy. 

Finally, Renjun speaks up. 

Renjun says, voice quiet, but still audible above the noises of the city, “So you got what you wanted.” 

Jaemin looks at him, face not showing any adverse or positive emotions, “What I wanted?"

A bit of wind from being close to the river gently blows Jaemin's perfectly styled hair, and a little bit falls over his eyes. Still handsome. Still perfect. 

“Your thesis is a hit, I’ve heard,” Renjun clarifies and follows it up with a soft, but barely genuine, “I’m glad.”

At this, Jaemin begins laughing to himself dryly, looking down at the ground with his hands still in his pockets and then he turns his body halfway towards Renjun, still stunned by how beautiful the man looks tonight, “You haven’t read it, have you?” 

They talk like strangers. It was the worse sight to witness. Jaemin looks at him with the eyes of someone who will break your heart, and it was because he was. He was someone who will break your heart. After all, Jaemin broke his. 

Renjun pursed his lips and wondered what the humor was, “I haven’t.” 

_I won’t_. He won’t read something as soulless as a thesis about Jebaek. He couldn't. He wouldn't. 

Jaemin nodded his head while looking off, “Right. I didn’t think so.” 

Some silence sits between them, and Renjun wishes that he could turn the man around and rush into his embrace. To clear the silence like old times. And he is angry at himself for wishing that, because he had worked so damn hard for the past few months. 

Every single day, waking up was a struggle because he had to battle with his own head to forget Jaemin. And every single night, going to sleep was difficult because he had to pray he didn’t start feeling sad over how it was Jaemin who held him to sleep anymore. He had gone through so much pain, that it killed him that even after all this time, he still was a fool for Na Jaemin. 

He was a goddamn fool for Na Jaemin.

Jaemin speaks up again, breaking the consistent silence. It kept on happening, and he hated it. They were never like this. 

"So you're getting a big commission, huh," Jaemin says. He hated small talk, but was this what they had come to? Small talk, as if they were strangers?

Renjun nodded, palming his own hand, "Yeah. That's why I'm here. Mr. Choi asked me to come up to Seoul."

Jaemin chuckled then, "You probably didn't expect to see me, did you?"

Huang Renjun shook his head, it had been the shock of a lifetime, "No, I didn't." 

“You looked beautiful tonight, Renjun,” Jaemin then says, as he looks at his old friend. There’s a glint in Jaemin’s eyes, and Renjun hates that he loves it. That he misses it.

Renjun’s voice catches in his throat and his next words were just barely above a whisper, “Jaemin, you can’t say that to me.”

“Why not?” Jaemin asks. 

“Because…” Renjun trails off and can’t finish his sentence. Can’t finish with the realization that it was because he still loved Jaemin. And that those kinds of words hurt more than they flattered in these circumstances. 

And now, they were back to silence. That stupid silence that kept coming back. Just as they left one, another one showed up. A meter stood between them, and a whole lot of unspoken words and emotions. There was so much to say, but it was so hard to spit it out.

Jaemin needed more time. What was he supposed to do now? Now that he sees Renjun for the first time in four months, he was just supposed to take the man back to his hotel and call it a night? He needed more time, and there was too much more to say, too much more to do. He had this opportunity. He wasn’t going to waste it. Jaemin allow the sounds of the city to fill the void in between them for just a moment longer, and then he speaks.

“It was a little suffocating in there, don’t you think?” Jaemin starts, “All the expensive things and people?” 

The truth was that it hadn’t been that suffocating to Jaemin. He was used to it. He just knew that it was suffocating to Renjun, and Renjun himself knew that. He knew that Jaemin saw through him, could feel through his soul.

Renjun looks up, and he meets those brown eyes again. His breath stopped. He replies softly, “A little.”

Were they just going to be like this? Pretend nothing transpired? Pretend that it hadn’t been four months that had passed? 

Jaemin then turns his body completely towards Renjun and takes a step forward, voice suddenly pleading in a way, “So how about we leave? Get out of here, right now.”

Renjun laughs lightly while looking up at his friend, still not used to just how painful yet beautiful seeing Jaemin was, “That’s what you’re supposed to already be doing, remember? Taking me bac-”

“Not there,” Jaemin says. He wants to reach out to Renjun as if none of this was real and he needed to hold on, but he doesn’t. Jaemin continues, “Come with me, Renjun.”

“What?” Renjun asks, a little surprised at the request.

“Get away with me for the night,” Jaemin answers. 

Renjun shook his head, “No, I can’t. I won’t. Jaemi-”

“Why not?” Jaemin asks, taking one step closer, “I need time. Give me some tim-”

“Jaemin,” Renjun said as firmly as he could, “I can’t. Being with you, it makes me...it makes m-”

“Just one night, Renjun,” Jaemin asks, eyes boring into his soul, “Give me one night.”

Renjun tries to stop him, “Na Jaemin, I just _told_ you. I can’t. Stop fucking askin-”

“You can,” Jaemin says, staying firmly rooted, “All I’m asking for is one night, Renjun,” His last words were more gentle.

Time. Time was all he needed. Time was all _everyone_ needed. It drove the lifestyles of most people, who was obsessed with keeping up with it. Because when the average human only has 80 years to live and half of that is spent sleeping, each second becomes valuable. Each seconds is another opportunity to smile, to laugh, to spend time with the ones you love, or to make amends with those you lost. 

Renjun tongues at his cheek and looked pained, “Why, Jaemin? Do you not remember how we left of-”

“Of course I fucking remember,” Jaemin almost lets his frustration show, “And look at us now."

He gestures between the two of them and then continues, "I don’t believe in higher powers, but I’m telling you now. When I left, you vowed not to look at me, and never to speak to me, never to see me again. And fate just has it so that now, four months later, you're doing exactly that. You’re looking at me, you’re speaking to me, you’re seeing me. Self-control won’t help you now, Renjun. Fate’s already got us wrapped up in its fingers. So what are you even trying for?"

Renjun looks at him with hurt and acknowledgement. He wasn't wrong, but he wished that Jaemin was.

The taller continued once more, "So come with me for one night, Renjun. Please.”

There was a bit of desperation in Jaemin’s voice, and Renjun could also feel it within himself: that desperation. He stands there now, looking into the eyes of the love of his life. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. It would be like working so hard for so long just to have it all mean nothing in the end. Like building a house of cards. It would be like building a sand castle right on the water’s edge so that one waves washes it all away. One night with Jaemin would mean one more lifetime of suffering when it all ended. And he had not even recovered from the last time they had seen each other. 

Jaemin continues, “Say something.”

Renjun blinks up at him and wanted nothing more to reach out and hold the man’s hands in his face like he used to. His voice is quiet, “Jaemin. It’s been four months.”

Jaemin folds his lips inside and looks off to the side, “I know.”

“It’s been _four_ months, Jaemin,” Renjun repeats more a bit more firm, as he stands there on the alabaster. 

Na Jaemin takes a deep breath. Renjun acted as if he hadn’t also realized this. As if he hadn’t also been keeping track. 

“Jaemin,” Renjun says, voice louder this time, “It’s been four fucking months since we'v-”

“And who’s damn fault was that? Whose damn fault is it that it’s been four months with no word? Yours, Renjun,” Jaemin matches his voice in sudden intensity, “It’s your own damn fau-”

“I know,” Renjun pushes back, his voice tried to be as strong as possible, “And I’m _fucking_ suffering the consequences of it, okay?”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything. 

And Renjun begins. He asks, “You know what it was like for me?” 

Renjun had to clench his jaw to stop himself from breaking, “All this time, and I still wake up in the morning hoping that I’ll be in your arms. All this time, and I still avoid going _anywhere_ because there are traces of you in my memories. The field. The river. The trees. Your house. My own _bedroom._ All this time, and you’re _still_ on my mind, Jaemin.”

Jaemin looks at him, almost relieved and face unwavering. He listens. Renjun felt as if he had too many thoughts he had been penting up. It was obvious from all that he spilled to Jaemin in just minutes. 

Renjun continues, “I can’t kick you no matter how hard I try, and I _hate_ it. You know how pathetic I feel right now? It’s been four months and you look great. You look,” He gestured towards Jaemin, “fucking amazing. And I’m here, and I still can’t successfully say that I’m doing okay. I can't say that time had been as kind to me as they look to have been to you. And that makes me feel so goddamn pathetic, Jaemin.”

The words were searing, coming out of his lips. To confess to feeling so weak was almost a weakness in of itself. But he couldn’t help it. He had no one to tell this too. It all had come out. 

Renjun continues, “And I’ve tried so hard. I’ve tried so hard to forget you, to move on. I’ve tried so goddamn hard to stop associating you with everything I do, but here you are, and it a-”

“Then stop,” Jaemin said with a firm voice, more powerful and certain than the sounds of the city itself, “Stop trying.”

Renjun furrowed his brows and pushed Jaemin away, “You selfish bastard.”

“No, _you_ selfish bastard, Renjun,” Jaemin said with as much frustration, “Tell me, did it work out how you wanted it to? Have you saved yourself from being hurt? Did you successfully detach yourself like you wanted to?”

Renjun was silent. He couldn’t say yes. It wouldn’t have been the truth.

“Right, I didn’t think so,” Jaemin said with spite, “Why do you fucking keep trying?”

“Because goddamnit, Jaemin,” Renjun is almost shouting at this point, “I can’t live like this. I can’t live everyday wondering if you’re still thinking of me. I can’t live everyday stuck on someone who can’t come back.” Renjun is now pleading, lips almost trembling, “Don’t you understand, Jaemin? Don’t you understand? I _have_ to move on.” 

“I could’ve come back, Renjun,” Jaemin says with equal frustration, palming his hair as he paces in place, “That’s the thing. I _could’ve_ come back. Every week, I could have come back to see you at least once. It could have worked. You wouldn’t have had to wonder anything because I’d be right there. I don’t fucking care if a ticket to you was expensive to go back and forth. I would have done it, Renjun,” Jaemin says throwing his hands in the air, “I would have done it because you were worth it. You would be worth it. We could have made it if only you weren’t being a goddamn coward.”

Now, Renjun’s blood was boiling. Maybe he knew that Jaemin was right. But it didn’t make him any less angry to be completely called out on the fact that he was getting very acquainted with. Renjun speaks with rage, “What the _fuck_ did you just cal-”

“A coward,” Jaemin spits, “A goddamn coward. All you had to do was tell me yes. Yes, I can visit you. Yes, we can try to make this work. Yes, we can put in some effort even if it doesn’t turn out alright. All you had to say was yes.” Jaemin knows there is a chance they might cause commotion out in the city like this, but he doesn’t care. Four months of pent up emotions is all releasing.

He continues, “But no. You gave up. You gave up before it even began, Renjun. You gave up because you were scared of the ' _what ifs'._ What if we didn’t work out? What if I end up drifting away? What if I forget? Yeah, those are plausible,” Jaemin nods bitterly, “But how about this? What if we _did_ make it? What if I cared enough about you, which I fucking do, to make this work. What if, _get this,_ you had changed my life so much that there was no _possible_ way I could have ever forgotten you?” He says, “Did you think about that?”

Renjun took this chance to fire back, erupting, “Fuck off, Jaemin. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m a coward. But did you think about why? You bastard,” He spat, “You ask me ‘did you think about that?’. Well, let me ask you this. Did you think about my feelings when you asked me to try? I was fucking in love with you, Jaemin. And you couldn’t love me back. How could you stand there and ask me to try to make our _friendship_ work when my heart was already hurting so fucking bad from you not loving me too.”

He continues, broken, “I loved you and every night, I went to sleep hoping that in my dreams, you’d say that you love me too.” Renjun tried to make his voice stable, “Do you think about how it felt to kiss you and know in the back of my head that you’re only feeling half of what I feel? Do you think about how it feels to pour your heart out to someone and tell them you love them, and force yourself to be okay with them not loving you back? It’s like…” He pauses as he tries to collect himself, “It’s like handing your heart over, and having it get chewed and spit back out.”

Renjun bites at his lip and he looks down, his eyes were watering but he takes a deep breath and blinks it away. Not here. Not now. 

Renjun continues, and each word felt like a slap in the face, “So maybe I am a coward. But forgive me for trying to protect myself from my own stupid fucking heart, Jaemin.”

Jaemin stands there, quiet. The city buzz surrounded them, but next to the river on the side of the restaurant building, they were alone. And the silence filled the void. 

Renjun took a deep breath and then said in a voice that seemed so broken that it cut like glass shards, “I was in love with you, Jaemin. And to ask me to wait for you would have been torture.”

Jaemin looks at him, understanding Renjun’s sentiment but still feeling as if they could have tried. They still could have fucking tried, because Jaemin loved him _now_ . Had. And still was. And if Renjun had let them try, just a little bit longer, and Na Jaemin would have been all his. It just taken him a few weeks too long to realize, but it would have been 4 months saved if Renjun only had _said yes._

Jaemin opens his mouth to say a single word, “Was?”

 _I was in love with you_ , Renjun had said. Was? Was he not anymore?

Renjun looked away, biting his lip and trying not to whimper. His words couldn’t be more of a lie, and he knew Jaemin could see through it. Even if he didn’t explicitly say it, through Renjun’s speech alone, it was obvious. 

Renjun takes a deep breath, his fiftieth one that night, and corrects himself, in a voice so small, Jaemin almost misses it. 

Renjun corrects himself. It’s quiet. But it’s there. He tells Jaemin, “Am.”

 _I_ am _in love with you_ . Not was. _Am._

Renjun pursed his lips and blinked back anything that was threatening to spill. He hated how weak he was for Jaemin. He knows how easy it would be to fall right back into the man’s arms, and that was terrifying. 

The silence between them was absolutely unbearable. Renjun would walk back to his hotel if he could. But he continued to stand there, body dejected. At this point, he had bared everything for Jaemin to see that it didn’t matter anymore.

“Then I ask you again,” Jaemin says gently and slowly, not directly replying to all that Renjun had said, “Did it work?” He breathed, “Did all of your defense mechanisms work? Did you protect yourself?”

Renjun looked down, his feet were standing on top of alabaster. Jaemin already knew he answer. Renjun could psychoanalyze. He knew this. He knew Jaemin already knew the answer. 

But even then, Renjun responds anyways, in a quiet, “No.”

That was all Jaemin needed to hear. They fell back into that silence, but this one featured a Renjun that was no longer on the defensive side. No longer trying to fight. He had fought with all of his energy, and he still lost. So he stands there. 

After some time, Jaemin spoke again, this time in a softer tone.

“Renjun,” He began, “That 49th day, I asked you about love, and you told me what love felt to you. But you never asked what it felt like to me.”

Jaemin then goes quiet as he waits. He was not going to speak again until the smaller replied. 

Renjun looks up and takes a deep breath. He relaxes his body, sick of being rigid. His soul had been depleted anyhow.

And then he asks, “What does it feel like then, Jaemin?”

Na Jaemin did not miss a beat, “Come with me, Renjun. And you’ll know.”

“Jaemin…” Renjun spoke with a soft tone. He had thought he made himself clear. 

“Come with me, Renjun,” Jaemin asked again, “And I’ll show you. By the end of the night, you’ll know.”

Renjun looks up. 

He sees the world in Jaemin’s eyes. Sees his world. The one where the mountains of Jebaek were as green as they were before he left. Where the skies were a beautiful blue and the sunsets were vibrants pinks and oranges. Jaemin had taken that all with him when he left, and Renjun is left with just a fragment of what life could have been. He thinks about Jaemin’s words and how they rang true in his ears.

And how he hated that it was true. It was true that he had done so much to prevent them from seeing each other: he had promised that they will never visit each other, never write to each other, hell, the last day, Renjun had promised that they would never even look at each other again after this. But how had that turned out for him? Somehow, someway, through interlocking connections, they found themselves here. 

Four months later. And Renjun was looking at him, talking to him, standing in the same space as Jaemin. And what was worse was that he had taken all of those precautions in hopes that he would have a better recovery, that it would make it easier to forget Jaemin, and how had _that_ turn out for him? 

_Fuck_ , Renjun thought to himself. At times like this, he wishes he was someone else. He wishes he was someone with more self control. Someone who did not carry their heart on their sleeves. 

And so Renjun says, finally Renjun says, “One night.” 

“One night is more than you’ve given me in four months. I’m more than satisfied.” Jaemin said before taking Renjun by the hand, surprising the other and bringing back both sad and happy memories of this familiar gesture, and guiding Renjun to where his car was parked.

Renjun was going to regret this, and he knew he was not making a rational decision, but it was as if his being wanted to love Jaemin so bad that it wouldn’t let Renjun say no. It was as if his soul needed this so bad that it wouldn’t let him say no. 

So he followed Jaemin to his car, a beautiful white Porche 911 Carrera, sleekly designed. Some tension sat between them. Maybe a lot. Of course there would be. How could there not be?

Renjun runs his hands over the interior when he gets inside, nose full of the scent of leather, “This is a nice car, Jaemin.”

His voice was still weak. His energy had been depleted from the yelling match just moments ago, but he tries his best. For this night. For this one night. 

“I know,” The brown haired man replies, backing out of the parking lot, “When we first went to Seoul together, I wanted to take you around in it, but I figured that you wouldn’t care for these kinds of things.” 

Renjun pursed his lips at that, and Jaemin began driving. The engine had the loud vibration of a sports car as it whipped through the streets of Seoul. 

Renjun spoke, “I would have liked anything if it was with you.”

He didn’t look at Jaemin, but Renjun could feel the man’s eyes flicker over to him. 

And then Jaemin spoke up, “Anything, right? Except for giving us a chance back then.”

 _Fuck_ , that hurt. Renjun winced in his seat, but he knew Jaemin had a reason to feel the way he did. Renjun looked down to his fingers and fidgeted slightly with the titanium ring that adorned his pointer. _Back then_. He spoke as if years had passed, and to Renjun’s poor beaten soul, it felt like it: years worth of damage all within a couple months. 

He then fixed his gaze on the view of the Seoul cityscape in front of them as they ride through the city streets in a nice car and dressed up in nice clothes. 

Renjun opens his mouth to say, “If we only have this one night together, then let’s not waste time talking about that anymore.”

Jaemin glanced over at the boy, reminded of how stupidly stubborn Renjun can be, and then he sighed with a “We’ll see.”

Jaemin drives until they reached the Lotte tower, one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city. It made its presence known in the city skyline and stood out immensely. It was tall and shaped like a thumb, if he were to describe it. During the day, the acrylic glass that made up the outside was a shining blue, but at night, the building looked obsidian aside from the abundance of twinkling lights from the many floors that were still busy with people. 

When Renjun gets out of the car, he had to crane his neck up high to see the top. Its light twinkling for the skyline to shine. Jaemin put a hand on Renjun’s back as if to guide the boy, but quickly put it down as if burned by the touch. Renjun did not fail to notice. 

They go into the elevator and ride up to the top floor, jazz music playing through the elevator speakers as they ride up by themselves in the compartment. Upon exiting, Jaemin walks nonchalantly throughout the floor, looking around as if watching for people. Renjun notices the behavior but just strolls behind Jaemin closely. He could tell Jaemin was about to do something probably illegal. 

They approach a door that said _Staff Staircase Only_ and that was when Jaemin suddenly turned around to reach out to Renjun’s hand and pull them both through the door and out the other side. Renjun was half confused and half reminiscent of the way they were holding hands like this. That burning sensation when they touched happened again.

Jaemin did not let go until they make light but quick footsteps up the stairs until they reached a green door with a hatch. 

Pushing it open, the two men made it onto the roof of the tower. It was a large rooftop and _very_ high up off the ground. 1,823 feet off the ground to be exact. And up here, it felt much windier. But damn, was the view spectacular. Shutting the door gently behind them to not make too much sound, Jaemin strolled over to the edge and stood there looking at the view of the city below.

Thousands and thousands of twinkling lights. Some from apartments, some from large corporate buildings, many from cars, some from little shops that dotted the shopping outlets. Up here, the sound of the city was everywhere: the whirring, the honking, the white noise of chatter, the occasional siren. People. All kinds of people. People shopping, people driving, people just walking nonchalantly down the street. Maybe they were going to someone's birthday celebration at a bar. Maybe they were coming home from work. Maybe they just wanted to stop into a 7/11 and grab a egg sandwich and call it a night. So many people. So many lives, all bustling below them. 

Jaemin sat down near the edge, legs dangling off of the side, and looked out on the view. Of course it was dangerous, but Jaemin didn't care. 

Renjun felt his heart beat a little bit faster at the sight and he approached Na Jaemin with a concerned voice, “Jaemin, don’t you think this is a little close to the edge?” 

Jaemin looked over at his old friend with a bitter smile and blew a puff of air into the night sky, “Maybe,” He paused, “But this is the only way I can make myself feel these days. Being on the edge like this.”

Jaemin’s gaze shifts back to the city, but Renjun still looks straight at Jaemin.

Maybe that was what he needed too, after all this time of seeing colors for less vibrant than they were, sounds for less melodic than they were, living with less energy in his soul than it was worth. To feel. 

Renjun asks a soft, “Does it work?” 

Jaemin pursed his lips and his eyes looked blank, “Somewhat.”

Somewhat. It was more than Renjun was currently experiencing in life, so the smaller takes slow steps over to the edge and sits right next to Jaemin also, until his legs dangle off the side but he would not fall over because his torso was anchored. His heart beat a bit faster as he sat there. He knew nothing would happen, but it was still terrifying to be at such a high altitude with nothing to tie him back. Jaemin was right though. It did help him feel. 

Renjun grips onto the side tightly and looks obviously nervous, but Jaemin reached over to put a steadying hand on Renjun’s waist, and the smaller hitched his breath. The brown haired man speaks, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall.”

At that, like instinct, Renjun relaxes as he looks the love of his life in his eyes. He wants to melt, and he finds his posture relaxing a little, less rigid than before. Jaemin always had this effect on him, even now. 

And they sit there for a while. Renjun’s heart calmed down as he gets used to the scariness of the high altitude and he relaxes further. He feels Jaemin’s arm slip from his waist when the taller can feel that Renjun no longer needs it, but Renjun misses that touch already despite his will. The environment was far from relaxing. It wasn’t like Jebaek, where the trickling of the waterfall or the rustling of the leaves were soothing to the soul.

No, this was not a relaxing environment. But it was a therapeutic one. There was something about being this high above everything in the world, being so close to death that it only takes a single scooch forward, that makes them value life more. Because no matter how empty life felt and how faded everything seemed to be nowadays, it was better than to feel nothing at all. 

When Renjun speaks up, his voice was curious but vulnerable. He asks Jaemin, “Did you ever miss me?”

So much for not talking about it. Did he want to, or did he not? 

At this question, Jaemin lets out an ironic and light chuckle and he glances over at the pretty boy accompanying him tonight, “I still do.”

Renjun looks at him, eyes searching trying to find some hint of a ploy, but there were none. With Renjun, he could understand how he, himself, could have a hard time moving on. He had been in love, _still_ was. Not only that, but living in Jebaek, where life is a little slow on purpose and everything is small from the community to the size, it was hard to forget things. But Jaemin? As far as Renjun knew, Jaemin didn’t feel the same way.

The thought of it still hurt. Jaemin never felt the same way, but also Jaemin lived in the city, where there were things to do constantly, people to see, places to go, errands to run, so many things to do that it was surprising to Renjun to hear that at least _some_ part of Jaemin still misses him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel happy or sympathize with a deep pain. 

Renjun gives him a sad smile, “Then you’re a fool, Jaemin.”

“Then we’re both fools, Renjun,” Jaemin grinned with no happiness on his face.

To that, Renjun could not say anything. To deny that he missed Jaemin would to deny that humans needed air to live. 

So Jaemin speaks instead, “You were wrong, you know.”

“That’s a first,” Renjun tries to make it lighthearted, “What was I wrong about?”

“You told me that the first few days, I’ll think about you. Because you’re fresh on my mind. That, you were right about. And then you told me that I’ll graduate, and then I’ll become successful, and that throughout all of that, I’ll think of you less and less. That I’ll forget about you.” Jaemin smiled bitterly, “That, you were wrong about.” 

And then Jaemin looks over at Renjun, needing the smaller to see just how serious he was, “It’s been months. I’ve graduated. I’ve gotten successful. I’ve done all that. And I’m still here, thinking about you. Every day.” 

“Jaemin…” Renjun felt more and more pain the more Jaemin spoke, as if he was getting false hope for nothing, “Please don’t sa-”

“Renjun, I’m moving,” Jaemin says suddenly, and Renjun felt his heart break further. He acted as if he was going to go out of his way to see Jaemin after tonight anyways, but there was something about not knowing where Jaemin will be in the future, not knowing that the boy is only a few hours away, that hurt Renjun to the core. 

“What?” Renjun whispers. 

Jaemin laughs at him and thumbs Renjun’s cheek gently like how he used to. Renjun wanted to lean into the touch like old times, but he couldn't. Jaemin continued, “Renjun, why are you acting as if you were ever going to come see me here in Seoul anyways? Don’t give me false hope.”

Renjun ignores that comment and just focuses on the man. What Renjun was hearing is that he won’t know where Jaemin will be anymore. At least with Seoul, when Renjun lays in his bed back in Jebaek, he’ll know that Jaemin is sleeping soundly somewhere in his loft here. Or out drinking at a bar with his friends. Or in his workplace somewhere in this city. But now, Jaemin could be more hours away. Or countries. Or continents. He could be anywhere, and Renjun would never know.

“Why are you moving?” Renjun asks, hands gripping the sides again, and he suddenly felt nervous. 

Jaemin sighs, “I can’t stand this place anymore, Renjun. I’m sick of Seoul. I’m sick of it reminding me what I gave up to come here for. _Who_ I gave up to come here for.” He looks directly at Renjun. 

And Renjun, being the smart person he was, got the hint, but he could not believe it was more than face value, “Jaemin, you know you’re talking to me as if I was your lover.”

Jaemin smiles to himself, “We’ll get to that later, Renjun,” But before he even let the smaller think about those words, Jaemin continues what he had been saying, “But I don’t think I can stay here in Seoul anymore, not after...all of this. So my loft is on the market, right now, but I got a high bidder on it. I think I’m going to go for it. On the 24th, I’m going to go finalize the papers.”

Renjun wants nothing to tell him to come back then, come back to Jebaek. But he knew it probably was not as simple as that, and it would never be as simple as that, not emotionally or physically. 

Renjun asks, “But what about your job? I assume the research facility has other branches they can move you to?”

At this, Jaemin begins laughing and Renjun is utterly confused. The raven haired boy furrows his brows and waits for Na Jaemin to calm down a little bit. And when he does, the Seoul slicker looks at Renjun with a glint in his eyes, “You really don’t know, do you? Anything.” 

Renjun bites his lip at that, but he doesn’t dare ask what he was supposed to know. He purses his lips and looks down at the ground far below them through his fringe. 

Jaemin then asks, voice almost bitter as he asks, “You’re not even going to ask me where I’m moving? Are you sure you don’t want to know?” And then he cursed at Renjun softly, “Heartless bastard.”

The name tore at Renjun’s heart and he winces again, the action not slipping Jaemin’s notice.

Renjun shakes his head no, “I’m not going to ask. There’s no guarantee that one of these days, I wouldn’t book a ticket to wherever you are.”

“And what would be wrong with that?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun furrows his brows as if it was obvious, “Jaemin, I can’t live the rest of my life still in love with someone who I can’t be with. How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“One more,” Jaemin says without missing a beat, “Tell me again that you still love me.”

Renjun’s voice went quiet, “Why?”

Jaemin doesn’t tear his eyes away from Renjun for a second, “So that I know what you said is real, Renjun.”

Renjun has a look of hurt on his face and he takes himself off of the ledge and stands back onto the solid roof. At the sudden movement, Jaemin also sits back and pulls himself up to a stand, facing Renjun. 

Renjun, who wanted to slap Jaemin, “So that you know it’s _real_? Jaemin, do you enjoy it? Do you enjoy torturing me like this? Hearing that I love you? Does it make you feel good or something to know you have someone wrapped around your finger? Is that why you keep talking like you do? Because fuck off, I’m leaving.”

Renjun makes a move to leave, but Jaemin puts both hands around Renjun’s shoulders, holding the smaller in place as he tries to make Renjun stay. When Renjun calms down a little bit, and shows no sign of running away, Jaemin moves his hand up to cup his old friend’s face, making him look up to him. 

“Don’t. I didn’t mean it like that. I never meant to make it seem like that, Renjun,” Jaemin said almost a little desperately, “Fuck, that is...,” He took a breath and looked over to the side for a moment before turning his gaze back to Renjun, “the last thing I want to do.” He apologized, “I’m sorry. Don’t leave, please. For the rest of the night, let’s just act normal. I’ll take you to get ice cream. We’ll go paddle-boating. We’ll visit a rose garden. I don’t care what we do. Just don’t leave.”

Renjun hears the franticness in Jaemin’s voice, and he just wonders why Jaemin needed him to be here so bad. But Renjun asks in a small voice, “A rose garden?” 

“Yes,” Jaemin holds on to what he perceives to be interests coming from Renjun’s end as if it was his dear life, “A rose garden. It’s beautiful. You’d love it.” He tried to make it appeal to Renjun desperately, “I’ll take you, and we don’t have to talk about any of this. Just come with me.”

Renjun looks at his friend. He sees the desperation in his eyes, in his voice. It was alluring. It was tempting, and _fuck_ , Renjun was a strong person but he was so weak for this man.

And for the millionth time today, Renjun, no matter how upset he was, no matter how heartbroken he was going to be, Renjun gives in. _Fuck_ , he gives in. 

Jaemin keeps his promise for the most part. And for the rest of the night, he steers away from any mentions of love. He steers away from any _mention_ of it. But he sure did try his best at making a display of it, so much that Renjun felt that if he were anyone else looking at the two of them from afar, they would think the love was reciprocated. 

Jaemin puts him in a synthetic state of ease. And for a shining moment there, it felt as if nothing was wrong, even if _everything_ was wrong. Renjun knew he was a fool for letting himself forget the reality of the situation, but after four months of longing, wishful thinking, and making himself hate what he wanted so badly to love, the chance to escape reality made him lose whatever control he had left. 

The night passed much faster than either of them wanted it to, but Jaemin promised himself that he wouldn’t check his watch. Because he only had until the morning, and no second was going to be wasted looking at anything other than Huang Renjun. Jaemin really does take Renjun to get ice cream. They drove until they ended up at a parlour that Jaemin had never tried before, but it looked cool from the outside. It was a neon one, with dark purple and blue neon bands that wrapped on the outside and inside of the parlour. It left the shop with a dark, but techno ambience, only heightened with lofi music. Under the neon light, the highlighter yellow seats and counters of the dark but aesthetically lit ice cream place glowed a bright neon also. There were so many flavors that it was hard to choose. The cashier taking their order, for some reason, ended up recognizing Na Jaemin. The handsome author that has been blowing up everywhere. Renjun found the situation strange. The girl looked to be just a college student. Why would she go read a research thesis about anthropology? Why would anyone for that matter? And why would a university thesis author be recognized _ever_? That never happened. But still, Renjun just shoves it aside and tries to enjoy the fabricated ambiance of the night. 

Renjun took a seat as Jaemin ordered them two large waffle cones: one with mint chocolate chip and the other with banana foster. 

“This,” Renjun points at his banana foster ice cream, “is the only flavor that has rights.”

Jaemin gives him an incredulous look and sputters, “You’re kidding me. Banana? That’s a fruit. Why would you want your ice cream to be healthy? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of ice cream?”

Renjun narrowed his eyes, “How about strawberry ice cream then? What’s your excuse for that?”

“I have no excuse,” Jaemin says, “I don’t like strawberry ice cream either. So my point still stands.”

Renjun’s eyes widened at this sudden information. All this time, he thought he knew everything about the taller, but he missed the most important detail of all, “You don’t like strawberry ice cream?”

“Let’s take this a step further,” Jaemin teased, “I don’t like strawberry flavored _anything_.”

“Fuck off.”

“No you.”

It felt like normal. And there was something weird and bittersweet about that. The way they were talking to each other: it felt like normal. Like it hadn’t just been four months that had passed, but four hours. Like one of them wasn’t madly still in love with the other, and completely oblivious to the fact that the other felt the _exact_ same way. It reminded him of the week before Jaemin left, and they both pretended everything was normal even when it wasn’t and would never be. 

Oh _god_ , Renjun thought to himself, was he going to relive this heartbreak all over again? Or was he already reliving it every single day that he woke up and Jaemin wasn’t there. Was he already reliving it every night he went to sleep and it wasn’t in Na Jaemin’s arms. 

It was this normalcy: this act of ignorant bliss that put them in a sticky predicament. When the night ends, they’ll part ways once more. Why is it that everytime they see each other, there is always the pressure of time ticking against them? But in that ice cream parlour, lit up with neon acrylics in shades of purple and blue, with painted fake flowers that glowed fluorescent under said lighting, and the old, familiar laughter of each other’s voices, Renjun couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

Jaemin still looked at him as if Renjun was the only person who mattered. Jaemin still made his heart skip a beat everytime he smiled. Jaemin still held his heart in the palm of his hands and had the power to crumble it to pieces, patch it back up again, just to do it all over. And Renjun let him, whether or not he wanted to, he let him. 

They go paddleboarding afterwards, in an intercity manmade lake in Seoul. Jaemin had seen people do this often, with couples or friends sitting in rented pedleboats going around the water like that. He had done with a buddy once, but that was a buddy. This was Renjun.

And he had never done it at night. But he paid the ticket clerk and they get settled into the rocky peddleboat. As they venture out onto the black, easily moving water, it felt beautiful as they rippled through the water with the reflection of the city skylines on its surface. It wasn’t Jebaek, where the night sky itself and all of its pretty stars were reflected off the surface of waters, but it was still beautiful regardless.

Jaemin doesn’t know when, but he knows that at some point, Renjun began to purposely reach down to the side, scooping up water with his hands and then flinging it in Jaemin’s direction. It didn’t take long for the taller to reciprocate, and the two try their best to multitask. Peddling, while having a small little water fight, and trying not to fall in because the lake waters were always heavily moving a little bit and they were bobbing dangerously, threatening to flip the peddleboat over. 

Mind this, both of the men were still in formal attire. Jaemin had taken off his suit jacket, and he was now left wearing the fitted slacks and a white button up, only partially buttoned, on top. Renjun kept his original outfit on, so there was the image any onlookers saw. The two of them, both in clothes fit to attend a gala, and they were on peddle boats in the some manmade lake in Seoul at night trying not to get each other soaked. It felt sweet. It felt like old times. And it hurt like old times, too. 

Jaemin really does take Renjun to that rose garden also as a finale of sorts, as he promised. His eyes glances for a second at the time as they drove to their next location, wary of the closing time. It was 9:46 P.M. They had time to make it. Jaemin parks a block away and they walk to their destination. It was in a green space, enclosed inside of the city but with distance between everything that it looked as if it were a small world of its own. Trees surrounded the park, amidst the concrete jungle of the skyscrapers so it felt like an escape from the industrialism of sorts.

Up ahead of them, there were a series of light tunnels, like the ones they have in Tokyo. Jaemin said that the rose garden was at the end of these tunnels, which branched out from every side until it met in the middle of an open space. He had never been here before, but he had read about it in a Daily Tribune. The tunnels of string LED lights that made a walkway of beautiful white, purple, and pink LED lights surrounding them on all sides like a movie. It blinked, like artificial stars that they could reach out and grab. 

Renjun remembered asking Jaemin about LED lights once, that day at the salt flats, and here they were now, seeing a colorful ocean of it. Renjun and Jaemin walk through the tunnels, which were empty at this time. The park closed at 10 P.M., and by now, everyone had evacuated. It was only them, so Renjun allowed himself to prance through excitedly, eyes glowing as he stares all around him at the beautiful lights. Jaemin strolls near him with his hands in his pocket, staring at that smile because it had been so long since he had seen it that he drank up every second that he saw that beautiful grin. 

There were several of these tunnels branched out, but all of them meet in the middle where an empty courtyard sat. Here, there were no LED lights, but in the middle was just a large garden. A garden of roses. Beautiful red roses, with a color so vibrant, a smell so sweet, but a prick so deadly. Maybe that’s why people chose roses to represent love: the duality of pain and beauty. It was absolutely _stunning_. Renjun had only ever seen wild roses, but they never grew in abundance like this. Here, it was neatly organized and beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, and Renjun was mesmerized. 

With the rose garden all to themselves, Renjun walks throughout it, fluttering his fingertips on the petals, scared to get pricked by the thorns. Jaemin did the same. He had never been here with anyone before, but he knows he does not want to be here with anyone else _after_. 

Sometime, in the middle of the rose garden, Renjun stood and looked at Jaemin with a smile, “You should do that thing they do in the books. Or movies, I don't know,” He said, “Where you twirl me around by the waist up in the air in the middle of a flower garden.”

Jaemin didn’t know what books Renjun was reading, but he knew he wasn’t about to deny the request, not when it was another chance to hold Renjun like he used to. The boy who he saw in his vision every time he lays in his loft at night. Jaemin made his way over, a smile on his handsome face, until he stands in front of Huang Renjun, that beautiful boy.

Then, in one fell swoop, Jaemin places his strong hands on Renjun’s slender waist and hoist the smaller up while spinning twice. Renjun let out a small sound of enjoyment as he was being twirled, and he felt like his life was a movie. Jaemin’s hands on his waist was a feeling too great that he didn’t want the taller to let go. In the middle of a rose garden in Seoul. He had not expected his night to go like this. He almost didn't want Jaemin to let go. 

Thank goodness, he didn’t. Because when Na Jaemin lets Renjun back down on the ground again and stops spinning, the brown haired man looks at Renjun with his hands still resting gently on the boy’s waist. 

Jaemin stares at Renjun with such intensity that he felt shy underneath that gaze. He could not even begin to describe how it felt to know that Renjun, _his_ Renjun, was here right now. Renjun was stunning in all ways emotional and physical. 

Na Jaemin finally opens his mouth to speak, and when he does, Renjun swears that his mind went blank, “You know what always happens after?” He paused, taking one hand up to lift Renjun’s chin, “In the books?.”

The raven haired boy felt like he already knew, but he asks anyways, “What?”

Na Jaemin looked at the smaller, hands still on his face. The face that Jaemin had been dreaming about ever since he left. He contemplated whether to do it. To do what he wanted so desperately to do. Was it a good idea, or would it leave Renjun in a worse place. But then Jaemin looked at the glossy eyes of his friend, so filled with love that Jaemin felt his heart get full. And he looks at those lips, perfect and pink. Once his. He only had this one night. For right now, at least. He realized this. And he knew there was only ever one answer. 

“This,” Jaemin said and he had one hand gently resting against Renjun’s face as he leaned in. He leaned in slow, and it was deliberate. Jaemin had purposely made it slow so that if Renjun didn’t want this, he could pull away. If Renjun wanted to push him away and slap him across the face, he could do so. 

But Renjun didn’t. He knew what Jaemin was going to do, and in that moment, as Jaemin leaned forward, Renjun knew he should have pulled away. He knew he should have stepped back and not let the kiss happen. He knew the kiss would have taken everything he had left out of him. But Jaemin’s hand on his cheek was so gentle, and the way he leaned down to kiss him was so sweet. And the rose garden was so beautiful. And the lights, my goodness, the lights were magnificent. Maybe these were excuses. Maybe they were indeed. 

But Renjun found himself closing his eyes and leaning in when Jaemin finally kissed him. When Jaemin kissed him, Renjun felt an ocean of emotion wash over him. First of all, pain. Because he was giving into the taller once more. He was allowing this kiss to happen just for his heart to break once more. He was reminded of all the kisses they had lost in the four months they were apart once more.

Secondly, ecstasy. Because after nights upon nights of dreaming about the lips he thought he would never get to taste again, on this fateful night in Seoul under the August breeze, Renjun gets to feel what it was like to be in Jaemin’s embrace once more, to taste those lips once more. 

Na Jaemin leans in deeper, scared to break it off because he had been dying for this for so long. Nothing felt like Renjun. Nothing could ever feel like Renjun. The fact that nothing could compare to the boy in his arms right now was a terrifying thought, because it implied that Jaemin being with anyone before or after Renjun would be settling for less. Because Jaemin will repeat this: _nothing_ felt like this. Even after months, this was the only feeling he craved. And now that he had it, only for a night, Jaemin didn’t know what to do afterwards. 

They kiss like that for a while, lost in each other’s embrace. Every movement synced, and Renjun was reminded for the millionth time how perfect Jaemin’s lips moved with his own and how perfect he fit in his arms. He should have been distancing himself far away, but here he was, in the arms of the person who owns his heart right within in the palm of his hand. 

Renjun eventually pulls away slowly and looks up at Jaemin with glassed over eyes as he searches Jaemin’s soul. It had been months of pain, yet it only took a night for Renjun to let Jaemin kiss him once more. Was he really this weak?

Renjun asks with a voice that was on the edge of breaking, “Why am I letting you do this to me again?”

Jaemin still held Renjun’s face in his hands and he leans back down, speaking lowly but surely, “The same reason why I’m doing it in the first place.”

 _Because I love you,_ that was the reasoning. But Jaemin does not give Renjun a chance to ponder over any of his words, for Jaemin leans back down for another kiss, terrified it was all going to end when he opens his eyes, and Renjun responds. He felt his heart breaking more with every kiss, but he also felt his soul becoming more and more healed, like this was what he _needed_ after months of torture to his heart and soul for denying Na Jaemin. 

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Renjun breaths into his lips, “I’m leaving tomorrow. Don’t think this changes anyth-”

“I never said it would,” Jaemin whispers as he takes Renjun’s lips back into his own, mouth hungry and desperate for the sweetness that he craved so bad. He needed this, and Renjun moved with him, and they couldn't stop. 

It’s not too late to back out, Renjun thought, as they are back in Jaemin’s car and before they ride off, Jaemin had reached over to the seat where Renjun was sitting and took his lips into his own, increasing in intensity until his lips were on Renjun’s sensitive neck and the smaller let out a moan in the passenger seat which emits _quite_ a feeling from Jaemin. 

It’s not too late to back out, Renjun thought, as Jaemin whips through the streets of soul, GPS set to Renjun’s hotel, and one hand holding onto Renjun’s, not letting the other go because he was trying to get all that he could before morning arrives. 

It’s not too late to back out, Renjun thought, as they stand in the hallway of his floor, right in front of his room. Jaemin stood off to the side, looking at him, intending to make a leave, but Renjun fucks himself over and asks Jaemin to stay. And Na Jaemin takes no hesitation to accept the invitation inside. 

It _was_ too late, Renjun realizes, as they messily made it into Renjun’s room together, and they spend the rest of the night and well into the morning next to one another. In each other’s arms. With each other’s lips. Lips that were sometimes, here. Sometimes, there. Sometimes where those lips were supposed to be. Sometimes, where they _weren’t_ supposed to be. And maybe they just cuddled right up against each other like old times. Or maybe, at some points in the night, there was a bit more than cuddling. Maybe a lot more. Maybe this was what drugs felt like, to be with Renjun like this. Sometimes in bed. At one point, in the freestanding porcelein bathtub that spilled too much water on the sides when there was too much movement. At another point, with Renjun’s back pressed up against the vertical glass pane of the floor to ceiling windows. Maybe it wasn't what people assume they did. Maybe, it was. 

What was for sure though, was that this night was going to be engrained in Huang Renjun's mind for eternity. As he rides the train home, he will think of the heat between them when Jaemin holds him in bed like they used to. As he goes back to doing his daily tasks, he will think of the pale night-city lights that shone on his lover's face as they sit right next to the floor to ceiling windows, bed sheets on the ground and some coffee in front of them as they talked, as they kissed, as they cuddled. As he moves along with his life in Jebaek, he will think: he will think of what it felt like, what it felt like to have that one _last_ night in Seoul with Na Jaemin. 

And they ended up whispering into the night. Or maybe it was morning. Neither of them dared to check the time. They had learned their lesson from the past. Never check the time. It will only remind them of how little they have before their heart splits all over again. Renjun does not tell him anything that had happened in Jebaek since he left. That would bring up too many memories that he wasn’t sure he’d want to divulge yet. And Jaemin doesn’t catch him back up on his life either, for it was fruitless knowing that Renjun was going to return the next morning.

That sense of impending doom was there. It had always been there. 

“What day is it?” Jaemin asks at one point. He lies shirtless on the soft plush of the hotel blanket. Renjun on his chest, not wanting to let go.

Renjun tells him the date, “August 20th, why?”

Na Jaemin then speaks up, asking Renjun a deliberate question as if he wanted Renjun to pay close attention, “You know what day of the year that is?”

Renjun pursed his lips and thought about it. Was he supposed to know? It was not information most people knew, he would think, so Renjun answered honestly, “No..”

And then, without missing a beat, Jaemin answers for him with a sure tone and a hinting one. So he said, “It’s Day 232. Keep that in mind.”

Jaemin says this and prays that later down on the road, Renjun remembers this conversation. He even considered repeating himself so that the smaller wouldn’t forget. 

Renjun slowed down and furrowed his brows, “Why?

“Just do it,” Jaemin asks of him, “Keep it in mind. Today is the 232nd day.”

Renjun was confused. He was immensely confused, but he ultimately doesn’t try to argue, and so he says, “Whatever.”

After that, they got back to their quiet conversations. About life. About mundane things and important things alike. About society and then vitamin water. Stupid topics and not so stupid topics. It felt like old times, if only old times were masked with the elephant in the room saying that four months has passed and _nothing_ was the same.

The sounds of the city far below them. Renjun’s hotel room was on a high enough floor that the sounds of aggressive car honking and sirens were a bit muffled. In the darkness of the room, save for the lights of the city outside, they were allowed to have each other for the night. And in the morning, the dream will fade away. 

And so they lay there, unsure of what to say to make all the past four months make sense. Unsure of what to say to make their entire _relationship_ make sense. All they had was the company of each other for the night and no promises that it’ll be there when dawn comes. 

But at some point, as an ending note, Jaemin makes one last request. Just _one last_ request from Renjun. 

Jaemin asks, staring up at the ceiling with Renjun laying on his chest, breathing softly. He could tell the boy was getting sleepy by the way he was speaking slower and tripping on his words a bit more, but Jaemin needed Renjun to be awake for this one request. 

“Renjun,” Jaemin begins, words having a difficult time forming on his lips, “I want you to read my book.”

Renjun bites his lip and he faintly traces Jaemin’s torso a bit until his hands get tired and he gives up, “Jaemin, reading your book is the last thing I need.”

“Promise me, Jun,” Jaemin says and the old nickname hit Renjun like a truck and he wanted to crawl into himself and cry at the sudden usage of the nickname he found so dear. Jaemin continues, “I need you to read it. Promise me you will.”

Renjun opens his mouth to speak, but Jaemin out of desperation beats him to it, “Renjun, if you read it, and afterwards, you still feel the same? Like you need to separate us, then fuck, I’ll do it. I’ll give you want you want. I’ll forget you. But if not, then…” Jaemin took a deep breath, “then… _fuck_ , Renjun. You just have to read it. Promise me.”

Renjun could hear the pleading in his friend’s voice, and he knew it was serious to Jaemin. There was something about his thesis that Jaemin needed to let Renjun know about, and although Renjun was utterly confused as to why a simple university research thesis would cause this much craze: Mr. Choi saying it was a best seller, and now Jaemin acting as if his will to live depended on Renjun reading it. But regardless, he still heard it. The genuine pain and pleading in Jaemin’s voice, and so Renjun didn’t reject it immediately. 

“I’ll see,” Renjun says softly, He pauses. “I’ll see.” He repeats. 

And it wasn’t the answer Jaemin wanted. He could tell. The brown haired man looked as if he had more to say, but he doesn’t. This was all he was going to get out of his stubborn Renjun, so he would have to hope. _Fuck_ , Jaemin thought to himself as he closes his eyes and furrows his brows. He was still laying back on the sheets with Renjun on top of him. He had more to say. He had so much more to say. 

But he had spent so much time thinking on how to say it that Jaemin hadn’t even realized that minutes had passed until he hears the slight sound of Renjun breathing as he slept. Jaemin recognizes that sound anywhere, because there was once a time when he used to go to sleep hearing that sound in his arms. 

Renjun had fallen asleep. _Fuck_ , Jaemin thought to himself. 

He hadn’t even had the chance to finish what he had been wanting to say this entire time. The entire point that got Renjun to even spend this one last night with him in the first place. He had told Renjun earlier that if the boy comes with him, if Renjun came with Jaemin for the night, then Jaemin would show him. Jaemin would show him what love felt like to him, a question never asked on the 49th day back in Jebaek. 

Well now, Renjun was asleep. But Jaemin still laid there awake, angry that he hadn’t said it just a few moments earlier. 

Renjun was laying against his chest, where his heart was beating sporadically at the thought of Renjun. Jaemin wondered if Renjun could hear it, or if the smaller was knocked out with exhaustion like how it sounded. 

And as Jaemin’s heart continued to beat fast, the brown haired boy brings Renjun’s hand, which had only been laying gently against Jaemin’s sides, up to his beating chest. 

And there, without Renjun being awake to listen like the fool that Jaemin was, he said in a voice so sure and pure, “It feels like this.”

_Love. To him, it feels like this._

He’ll tell Renjun in the morning, he figures. In the morning. He made a promise to himself. 

  
  


But when Jaemin woke up the next morning, Renjun was long gone. No note. No nothing. It was August 21st. Day 233. 

  
  


Renjun had woken early that morning, out of bodily habit. Below him, the city was waking up with a ruckus. Loud cars and loud sirens. He picked himself slowly off of Jaemin’s chest where he had been sleeping and hovered slowly there to look at his love. Asleep, Jaemin was harmless. A man with long lashes and a perfectly chiselled face. But awake, Na Jaemin was the most dangerous person he could ever encounter, with the ability to crush his heart with the snap of a finger. Or the kiss of his lips. Renjun felt that numbing pain again as he folded the little belongings he had bought with him for this one day trip into his duffle bag. There was a sense of deja vu, for it felt as if he had experienced leaving Jaemin too many times before. And it hurts more and more each time. 

But Renjun had the chauffeur in the valet pulled up in front of the hotel for him, with his train leaving at 6:30 A.M. sharp out of Seoul. He could wake Jaemin up to say goodbye again. Do it again in the way they could never had the last time. He could wake Jaemin up again and look in his eyes to say goodbye, and do it differently than what happened before. But Renjun thought: what was he going to say? What could he possibly say? _Bye, Jaemin. My life is empty without you. Everything I ever tried to do to make it hurt less was for nothing. I still love you_ ? What would Jaemin even say back? What _could_ he even say back. 

So with that realization in mind, Renjun with a heavy heart took slow footsteps towards the sleeping Jaemin before he left, duffle bag in tow. And he leans down, drinking up the sight of the love of his life, before landing a soft, gentle kiss onto those lips. Renjun didn’t even notice when he felt the corner of his eyes prickle wet until he pulled away and wiped at his face as he made his way out of the hotel room. He forces his jaw to clench the entire time, afraid that he’ll lose it again like how he had the first time. Not today, Renjun. Not now. He rode the elevator down and his legs numbly made him walk to the front. 

By now, he was frantically trying to wipe around his eyes, his face numbing with every silent tear. He wasn’t sobbing. He wasn’t outright crying. It was the silent kind. The kind that just falls down the side of your cheek in pretty streams, staining them when they dry. 

Seeing the Cadillac pull in front, Renjun opens and doors and hurriedly slides in, ready to get out of this place as soon as possible. 

Right as he gets into the car, he is greeted with more than just the driver. Mr. Choi was there, sitting in the passenger seat and greets Renjun, turning his torso around enthusiastically. 

“Renjun!” He said boisterously, “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to see you off this morning, as a token of good faith! Ho-”

It must have been obvious Renjun had wet eyes because suddenly, Mr. Choi’s face morphed into one of concern and his mouth dropped into a look of horror as he puts a hand out, not sure how to comfort his young man he commissioned. 

Renjun sits up straight and blinks away the wetness and pretends nothing happened, and he gave a laugh that came out a little cracked, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Mr. Choi looks at him with doubt as the car begins driving out of the hotel lobby, but he tries to distract Renjun by talking about other things. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened with the boy, but Mr. Choi figured it would have been weird if he pried. So instead, Mr. Choi steered the conversation to topics that would get Renjun engaged. And after a while, it worked as they drove through the streets of Seoul. Renjun was not entirely energetic or at full capacity, but regardless, he knew better than to act like a complete mess in front of the man who was going to commission him. 

They drive like that for a while, making light conversation. Mr. Choi loves speaking, so it was a great experience to the man overall. There was only one train station that serviced to Jebaek, so they had to make a drive across the city. But that was okay. He was putting more distance between him and the person who held his heart. 

“I’m glad Mr. Na got you home safely last night, Renjun,” Mr. Choi chuckled. 

Renjun pursed his lips. Everytime he seemed to escape the name for a little, it would show up all over again and remind him of the love he could not shake off. 

Renjun smiled bittersweetly at Mr. Choi, “He did.”

Mr. Choi nodded sternly, “Very respectable young man, that one.”

Renjun’s voice could not be full force when he talked about Jaemin, but he tried his best, “He is. He’s 21 and already making a name for himself in sociology.”

Mr. Choi then turned and gave Renjun a look of confusion, “Come again?” 

Renjun looked at the man and tried to say it clearer from the backseat, “I said he’s only 21 years old and already making a name for himself.”

“No, after that,” Mr. Choi waved his hand. 

“Oh, um,” Renjun furrowed his brows a bit, “In sociology.”

Then Mr. Choi began laughing a bit, “Son, what do you mean?”

Now, Renjun was even more confused, and he hesitantly explained slowly, “His job, right? He published that anthropology thesis and got that job at that one top research facility, didn’t he?”

At that, Mr. Choi laughs even more and claps, “That’s funny, Renjun. Are you sure you haven’t read _The Thesis_?”

Nothing was making sense in Renjun’s mind and he had to hold onto his seatbelt to not go insane at the confusion. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

Mr. Choi continued, “Because that sounds like the whole issue with one of the main characters from his novel.”

“What?” Renjun paused, everything getting more confusing by the moment, “His novel?”

“Yes?” Mr. Choi said as if it had been clear all along, “His novel. It was titled _The Thesis_. I've told you this, Renjun.” 

Suddenly, everything clicked. The entire time, Renjun had been hearing “have you read the thesis” as if it was just Jaemin’s research thesis. But all this time, everyone had been referring to it as _The Thesis_ , a book title. That was so confusing, Renjun thought. How could he had figured that out without prior knowledge or not seeing it on paper? But now, another question posed. What did Mr. Choi _mean_ it was a novel? Since when was a research thesis turned into a novel? Unless it wasn’t a thesis. But that would mean that Jaemin hadn’t published a research thesis. And what was Mr. Choi talking about when he said that _that_ sounded like the main character from Jaemin’s novel? A million questions ran through Renjun’s brain and he was getting dizzy. 

“Mr. Choi,” Renjun slowly asked, “What do you _mean_ it sounds like the main character from Jaemin’s novel?”

“Yeah, the main character in The Thesis. It’s a beautiful story, to be honest. Everyone in Seoul is waiting on a sequel,” Mr. Choi said and then he reached into the glove compartment and upon opening, several books spilled out, “Here. This is my copy, but I’ll let you have it. Read it, and you’ll see.” 

Renjun slowly reaches out to hold it. This was no thesis. No such thesis ever was the length of a full book. On the cover, there it was in large lettering of a title “ _The Thesis”_ by Na Jaemin. Renjun was terrified to open it. He was so, so fucking terrified to open it. So it just laid in his lap for a moment there, with Renjun staring at it. 

Mr. Choi, looking out the window, nonchalantly made some commentary, “The way it’s written, and the ending author’s note...it almost felt as if Jaemin wrote the book for someone.”

Renjun’s eyes flickered up the rear view mirror where he caught Mr. Choi’s curious expression. He suddenly became even more terrified to open the book. 

But then Mr. Choi chuckled to himself, “When I asked Jaemin about it, he didn’t make a comment. So I guess we’ll never know.”

Is that right? Is that fucking right.

 _I want you to read my book_ , Jaemin had told him last night. And Renjun had promised. He had promised that he would.

  
  


But as he rode the train home to Jebaek, he couldn’t bring himself to open the pages. He was so scared to what he’d find if he did. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe it truly was just a thesis, but Jaemin had gotten too into it and made a whole novel. But that wouldn’t explain what Mr. Choi meant by what he said. Renjun felt his hands shaking every time he thought of opening the book, and it sits there in his duffle bag, unopened and unread. He sat numbly for the hours that he had to ride home. 

It was late afternoon that Renjun arrived back in Jebaek, and he walked without feeling and with a blank attitude all the way to his home. Mrs. Rin went up to him, about to ask a question, but Renjun walked past her without giving the woman another glance. He coups up in his room for the rest of the day. The book lies on his nightstand, but he still had not found the strength to open it. He lays there, practically melting into the bed from not moving all day. He had gone to Seoul. He had met Jaemin again. He had not only seen Jaemin again, but spent the entire _night_ with Jaemin. Had fulfilled his soul for a night. And then in the morning, he had parted ways with Jaemin again. And now the book. It was another reminder of Jaemin’s existence, but everything in the world was telling him to read it except for the tiny rationale part in him that is telling him it would kill him. 

He skips dinner that night, and Mrs. Rin showed up into his room. She stands in the doorway, and Renjun could feel her there. And hear her slow footsteps, and careful voice as she asked renjun how his trip to Seoul went. 

Renjun was silent for a while. He was originally planning to not reply at all, but he wanted to accuse her. He wanted to accuse her so badly. 

“You knew, didn’t you,” Renjun, in a soft voice, said plainly, body facing the wall. 

Mrs. Rin takes a step closer, “Knew what…” Her voice was cautious. 

“You knew that Jaemin was going to be there,” Renjun says, voice weak. 

Mrs. Rin also seems surprised at this information, because her mouth dropped, “Renjun, I knew that Mr. Choi was affiliated with Jaemin. But I didn’t know that he would let you meet Jaemin.”

Renjun closes his eyes and grips his blanket tighter. He was quiet for a little bit, but then he spoke, voice completely pained, “It was wonderful, Mrs. Rin.”

And then the words leave his mouth with much difficulty, “It was amazing to see him again, Mrs. Rin. To kiss him again. To feel him again. To talk to him again. But then I woke up in the morning, and realized that it might as well have been a dream.” 

Mrs. Rin looked at Renjun with sorry and she patted his hip gently, “Bu-”

“He’s moving, Mrs. Rin,” Renjun says, voice pained and cracked, “He’s moving, and I’ll truly never see him again. And I thought that I could make myself live like that. Make myself be okay with that after a while. But it’s been four months, Mrs. Rin,” Now Renjun lets himself cry, just small cries, “It’s been four months. Why hasn’t it stopped? Why am I still not okay?” His voice broke with every word, “And then, I saw him again last night, and it was like…” He paused, trying to take a hold of himself, “...it was like the world slapped me in the face and told me that I would never get over him. That I will never stop loving him. And now, he’s moving and I didn’t even have enough courage to ask him where.”

Mrs. Rin closes her mouth. It pained her to hear someone she cared for so much sound so in pain, but there was little she could do. But she discloses anyways, “I know where.”

Renjun stopped and looked at her, “How?”

“Mr. Choi had mentioned it in the letter,” Mrs. Rin says quickly, “When you want to know, I’ll tell you.” 

Renjun purses his lips and tries to make his tears stop so the hiccups wouldn’t start, “And what if I never want to know? What if I’m a coward forever?” 

“You’ll want to know, Renjun,” And then Mrs. Rin glances over at the book on Renjun’s nightstand, “Read that book, and then I’ll guarantee you, you’ll want to know.”

Renjun then jolts up in bed, turns to the nightstand and grabs the book before chucking it all the wall. It hits his bedroom wall with a thud and falls flat on the ground and he yells at it, “Why does everyone want me to read that fucking book? Am i not tortured enough?” He cries. 

Mrs. Rin has no words to offer him. No words but this. She looks firmly at Renjun and slowly gets off of the bed, “Read the book.” And with that, 

Mrs. Rin leaves. And Renjun is left alone again, and once more, he has no one to hold him when he cries. 

  
  


Renjun believes it was 3 in the morning when he’s sitting up against the wall where his bed was pushed against. The night had turned into early morning and before he knew it, it had been the next day. August 22nd. Day 234. Renjun didn’t know why, but ever since Jaemin told him to take notice, he had been keeping count. What was he waiting for? He wasn’t sure. Jaemin knew, but he was left in the dark. 

His legs were tangled in the sheets but his back right up against the wall. He had stopped crying a while ago, but he was still left with this sadness in his soul. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, but it was enough that it felt he was glued in place. He stares straight at the bedroom door with a blank face. Was this how he was going to live for the rest of his life? The life of a coward? A coward who doesn’t let himself look at the person he loved one last time because he wanted to keep an old memory instead of making more? A coward who doesn’t give the only man he ever truly loved a chance because he was afraid of failure and distance? 

The only light that came in was the pale moonlight filtering in through his windows. The streams came through the window panes and fell onto the floor near the leftmost wall. Onto the floor where the book he had thrown landed earlier. Renjun’s eyes stared at it. It’s spine. It’s thick pages. It’s cover.

 _The Thesis_ . Its author’s name. _Na Jaemin._ He promised the man he would read it. And by now, he had been told to read it by 3 people. Who all _insisted_ heavily that he reads it. 

3 in the morning is a strange time. People call it the witching hour. Maybe it was because it bewitches the mind with tiredness into doing things they probably wouldn’t have done when they were more awake. Because Renjun slowly pulls himself out of his position against the bed and down onto the floor. Slow steps, he makes his way over to where the book fell and he sits on the ground, feeling the cold wood underneath him. The bright moonlight streaming in provided enough light to see any texts. He picks up the novel into his hands and holds it there for a moment. 

Even now, his heart was beating as he picked it up. He wasn’t sure why. No, that was wrong. Renjun knows why, it was just hard to put into words. He was nervous because from all the talk this book has around it, Renjun knew by now that it was more than just a thesis about the anthropology of Jebaek. But even then, there was so much the book could have been. _So_ much. He was terrified. 

But a spurt of bravery came, and Renjun puts a hand on the cover page and turns it. He turns it until he gets to the first chapter. Renjun gets to the first chapter, and on that first page, on that very first page, before he even gets to the end, Renjun begins crying again.

The first page:

_“It had been 14 years since Nana left the place he was born. And now, it was less than 14 minutes until he returned._

_Aged 21, the brown haired, strong featured man taps his fingers on the armrest of his comfortable train seat, in the front cabin where pretty ladies in skirt suits and hair pulled back offered him snacks or maybe a beer or glass of white wine once in a while. He could tell they wanted to linger longer and talk to him, but he didn’t pay them any attention like he usually would._

_Rather, his head was plagued with thoughts. He was 21 years old now, a university Junior. But he had been a mere 7 years old when he left the village he grew up in exchange for the high rises and bustling city-scape of Seoul. For the cool cafes and constant activity of metropolitan streets. For the world of digital supremacy, and the ‘work hard, play hard’ culture._

_He remembered only two things about the place he was born._

_First, its name: Baekje. He had vague memories of gorgeous green mountains looming over every side of the small village, streams and rivers that weaved in and out, and picturesques little traditional style houses that dot cobblestone streets. Memories of his mother--or maybe it was his father, he wasn’t sure--helping him fly kites in the summer, or accompanying his cousin to fish in the shallow stream._

_The second: a boy. The memories were hazy, but the boy's name remained on the tip of Nana’s tongue. Even all these years, fuzzily remaining in his memories was a small boy, who always followed him around when they were little, wanting to play anything he had wanted to play. A small boy, who at the time, he considered his best friend for the seven ripe years they spent together._

_Raven black hair that shined like coal. Cute cupid’s bow on his lips. A stature so small that it looked like he was going to fall over any moment now. Nana says that he doesn’t remember too much about Baekje, but one thing he could always remember was his last day in the village before he moved. He remembered how it wasn’t the unforgettable mountains that he would miss the most, it wasn’t the calm and crystal clear streams, it wasn’t the many community festivals that Baekje would host throughout the year. It was the boy with the raven hair that he would miss the most._

_His name was Jun.”_

Renjun feels himself break with every word he continues to read. Jaemin had changed everything, from their names to switching the syllables of Jebaek, but even then, Renjun knew exactly what this story was about and who this story was of. Nana? Jun? Renjun laughs through his tears at the nicknames they had given each other. The story was told from Nana’s perspective. Jaemin’s perspective. His heart felt torn from his chest, as if it hadn't already felt that way before. And Renjun got to see a little more into Jaemin’s mind than he was able to before. He sees Jaemin’s thoughts as they first meet, as they first go to the waterfall. He relives it again through the eyes of Na Jaemin. 

Renjun sits there far into the morning. For hours, he doesn’t take his eyes away from the book. He cries several times. He laughs several times. He clenches his jaw several times. But the entire time, he was absolutely in shock. Na Jaemin had never published a thesis. He published _The Thesis_ , this book right here. He hadn’t taken the deal. Renjun thinks back to the previous night when he asked Jaemin if when he moves, his job would be moving with him. _You really don’t know anything, do you_ , Jaemin had said to him. He didn’t. Renjun bit his lip but no longer tried to hold in his tears. He didn’t. He didn’t know anything. He was a fool. He was a coward. He was a reckless man who pushed away the love of his life. 

Since the perspective of the book was from Jaemin, it never went over how Renjun also had his list of days and memories. It never delved into Renjun’s thoughts, but only guessed at it as Jaemin would have guessed at it. It was their story. Or half of their story. The only half was Renjun’s perspective to keep between the two of them. At this moment, as he was reading the book, the moment when Renjun and Jaemin sat in the field and Jaemin confessed to Renjun that he always wanted to be a writer felt so bittersweet. Because now, he was. Now, Jaemin was a writer. It wasn’t fantasy or action, like what he originally said. But them. Their story. 

Renjun relives it all from Jaemin’s side. All of their memories. He gets to live as Jaemin when he says he looks at Renjun as the sun sets when the smaller wasn’t looking. He gets to live as Jaemin when he says that he was able to sleep better with Renjun in his arms. He gets to live as Jaemin when he says Renjun is what he thinks about before he went to sleep. 

Renjun sits there, ignoring any and every responsibility he has so that he could stay there for a little longer, cry a little more, as he hunches over the book in his lap and feel his heart being torn and repaired over and over again. 

There were times when he wanted to rip at his hair, and other times when he wanted to laugh in happiness only to cry a moment later. He was pathetic, and he knew it. His crying was pathetic, because he bought this upon himself. He lost someone he loved because he was too cowardly to try. Knowing this, as Renjun approached the ending, he stopped.

The book was about to end just as the characters Nana and Jun stand in the corn fields on that last morning. The 50th morning. The two characters stand there, and Nana tells Jun _‘please, at least let me look at you one more time. Don’t let me leave like this.’_ Renjun knew it was the last scene and before he could turn the page, out of pure pain, Renjun closes the book. 

Renjun didn’t read endings. But _especially_ , not this one. He knew how this story ended. He was not going to reread it and relive it all over again. Huang Renjun never read endings, and he wasn’t about to start now. The whole journey had been painful enough, and he did not need to relive a moment that he had already been doing the past four months. So Renjun shuts the book and lets himself collapse back on the floor behind him, eyes staring up at the ceiling, soul sucked dry. He didn’t read endings. He couldn’t. He was a coward.

He didn’t read endings. He _couldn’t_ . He tells himself this when he finally gets up and makes himself move. He tries to go on about his day as much as normal, his mind empty except for the book. The book that Jaemin wrote about him. The book that Jaemin wrote about _them_. What was he supposed to think, because if he was honest, his mind went blank. If he had known any better, he would have thought Jaemin loved him too. So it hurt more to know that even after reading the book, he didn’t. 

Renjun avoids Mrs. Rin for entire day. Because she had been right. Now that he read the book, or at least, _most of it_ , Renjun wanted to know. He wanted to know where Jaemin was. But not now. He felt as if there was something missing. As if he couldn’t move on without facing this. 

Renjun knew what it was. It was that ending. It was that _damn_ ending. But he wouldn't. He couldn’t. He already knew how it was going end, and he wasn’t ready for that pain again. He was such a coward and he knew it. He talked so much shit about Jaemin needing to face society norms and value the important things in life, but at the end of the day, Renjun was no saint lacking flaws. His biggest one was right in front of him. His cowardice. He had lost everything because of it, and even now, the ending waiting to be read scared him to death to relive again. He had lost the love of his life due to his own fear, and he was only realizing how stupid he had been now. 

He spends the next day hiding out in his room, besides doing the daily morning task. He doesn’t take on any additional tasks. He even locks his door for the first time. He completely shuts himself in. It was as tiring to experience as it was to witness. Renjun knew that just about everyone was sick of seeing him act like this, when the solution could have been so simple. But they didn’t understand. 

From an outsiders’ perspective, of course it would be simple. It would have been simple from the beginning. In a perfect world, when Jaemin had asked him to give them a chance, Renjun would have had the courage to at least try. To have said yes. In a perfect world, it wouldn’t have taken Renjun so long to realize he was a coward. In a perfect world, it would not have been this difficult. 

But it’s not a perfect world. And love itself is difficult. It makes people stupid. It makes people blind. It makes people want to grab their hair and pull it out, and cry until they can’t breath because their lungs were overworked. Love is a tangled string that was complicated to navigate. Love makes you think that there is something right to do when it is the _worst_ thing to do. 

He sits there and goes through a crisis. How is he letting himself live like this? There had been so many things he could have done instead to prevent this, but no. Here he was, absolutely destroyed, because he was stupid. He loved Jaemin. And was it because he loved Jaemin that he had let him go. Or was it because he was a coward that he had let him go. Because in love, you try. In love, you will suffer through the pain even if it kills you because if you don't, it'll still kill you anyways. The only difference is that in one scenario, you're alone. In the other, you're not.

Love makes people cowardly. But, as Renjun sits there in his bed and August 23rd, Day 235, is coming to an end, as Renjun feels the insistent pain that had been present in his chest for four months already, as Renjun realizes that how could a person live the rest of their life like this, he realizes something else: that as much as love can make people cowardly, it could also make them _brave_. 

It could also make them face their fears. So Renjun closes his eyes and bites his lip hard before looking determined. He could do this. He can do this. He stands up and makes his way over to his desk where the book sat. There were pages left. The final ones. The ending. That stupid ending that he now wanted to change so bad. That stupid, fucking ending. 

Love can make us brave, he tells himself. _Love can make me brave. Be brave, Renjun. Be brave for Jaemin. Be brave for yourself. Be brave because you owe yourself this._ He repeats it in his head repeatedly. _Love can make me brave. So be brave. Love can make me brave. So be brave._

He opens the book, in the dark of the night, and flips to the page he left off at. 

He rereads the last line before the next page began. 

“ _Nana’s voice suddenly turned gentle yet low and almost pleading, “I have to. So please, at least let me look at you one more time. Don’t let me leave like this.”_

Renjun swallows the lump in his throat. He had to continue. Love can make him brave. He needed to be brave. 

And so, Renjun turned the page. He knew what was going to happen. He had lived this story before. So he knew what Jun’s character was _supposed_ to say next. Jun’s character, him, was supposed to say “ _why_ ” and not turn around. Jun’s character was supposed to stand there stubbornly, never looking back at Jaemin until he leaves. Jun’s character was supposed to go on a monologue about how Jaemin needed to leave, and how he was going have a good life by himself after this. Jun’s character was supposed to let Jaemin leave with his heart that day. 

But as Renjun, turned the page, that was not what he read. Renjun blinked once. He blinked twice. 

This was not the ending he knew. He wondered if this was the right page. He flipped back to the previous one. 

He reads it again. 

_“Nana’s voice suddenly turned gentle yet low and almost pleading, “I have to. So please, at least let me look at you one more time. Don’t let me leave like this.”_

And then he turns to the next page. His brows furrowed. This _wasn’t_ the ending. He knew the ending. And _this_ was not it. This had not been the ending of their story, and he knows it for sure now. 

Renjun grips the page and he reads this ‘ending.’ He reads it all, drinks up every word. His eyes are glued to it. He does not miss a single letter. He flips the page. Reads it. Flips the next page. Reads it. Flips the page. Reads it. As he does so, he feels more tears coming out. He brings his arm up to wipe at it, sick of crying. He was so sick of it, and he didn't want to view himself as the bratty kind. As the melodramatic kind who only cries and acts stubborn and completely stupid. He continues reading, engulfing every single word on the pages.

This was not the ending. This was not the fucking ending. The ending did not go like this. He knows it. He had _lived_ it, so he knows that this was not how it actually ended. 

In this ending, Jun turned around.

In this ending, Jun fucking realized that in love, you had to be brave, far before Renjun in real life ever did.

In this ending, Jun had fucking turned around. And Nana, Jaemin, got to see him. Got to look into those eyes and get lost in Renjun’s soul.

In this ending, when Jun asks him what kind of ending he thinks they deserve, instead of pleading, Nana says _this one_ and then kisses him. In this ending, Jun is brave enough to kiss him back. 

Fuck, in this ending, Jun was brave enough to do everything that _Renjun_ couldn’t. He was brave enough to change his mind. He was brave enough to give them a chance. In this ending, he continues to read the pages, Jun lets him. Jun lets Nana visit him. And vice versa. In this ending, the four months they missed in real life was replaced by four months of effort from both ends, of bravery from both ends because they were trying _together_. In this ending, they both get what they wanted. In this ending, they were happy. Renjun could barely find himself flipping to the final page. The page before had stopped on the two of them, this alternate version of them, happy, sitting on that raggedy bench in the field, looking up at the stars. 

There was one page left. The author’s note. Renjun finds his lips trembling slightly as he flips it and when he reads the words, he stares at it and reads it over and over again. 

Centered on the last page, which was mostly blank, was a small little paragraph, smack dab in the middle. It contained only a few sentences, and to any other reader, they would spark mass confusion. But to Renjun? No. He understands everything. After all, they were directed towards him. There were only a few sentences, but they spoke louder than any other ever could. 

_Did you like this ending better? I did too._

_T_ _hey say that the number 236 symbolizes second chances. A new beginning. But to be honest, I’m sick of it: seeing the signs everywhere, in my alarm clock, in the damn steps it takes to get to a certain field. I’m sick of being reminded of a second ending I could have had with you. I think I like another number better._

381.

Renjun stares at it. 381. He thinks back to what Jaemin had told him that first night. 381. The english acronym. 3 words. 8 letters. 1 meaning. _I love you_. Renjun is slightly trembling. He knew what it meant. His hands were shaking as he holds the book. 381. It was not on accident. This number was not put there on accident. He knew what it meant. He was not stupid. It wasn’t explicitly said, but he knew what it meant. 

There was more. Right underneath, and Renjun finds the courage to keep reading. The very last few lines. His breath caught in his throat. 

_To ‘ Jun’, it doesn’t take me 381 steps to get to the field, but for you, I’ll walk slower. For you, I’ll take smaller steps. You’ve always helped me remember things, right? So meet me there and help me remember one last thing. Help me remember all the reasons why I love you. On the 236th day, let’s have that new beginning._

Renjun found himself frozen. 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' 'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.'

Those were the only words that registered in his mind. He rereads it over and over again. He rereads it until the words all blur together in his vision. He rereads it until he fucking forgets how to read, because how could he believe what he was saying. There was no way that said what it said. But it was so clearly written on the page that he couldn't be making this up. He scours it again. Did he make this up? Was he seeing things? He rereads it. Everything around him felt like white noise, and he could not concentrate on anything but the words that were on the page.

'Help me remember all the reasons why I love you.' Jaemin loves him. Jaemin fucking loves him. Renjun found himself gripping the book a bit tighter than he intended to, but he couldn’t help it. He had just read it with his own eyes. Na Jaemin loves him. His heart. His soul. My god. 

But more urgently, Renjun finally registers that last line. _On the 236th day, let’s have that new beginning_. 

He suddenly thinks back to 5 days ago when he went to Seoul. That night, Jaemin had asked them as they laid together what day it had been. When Renjun had told him it was August the 20th, Jaemin had told him to keep in mind the day of the year it was. It had been the 232nd day of the year then. But today. Today... _Fuck_. Renjun felt his body go into shock. Today. It was the 236th. It was the 236th day of the year. 

Before he knew it, Renjun found himself stumbling to get up, he knocked into his desk and he winced in pain. But his body found itself moving by instinct. His heart was beating fast and he could barely breathe. How could he, when he knows that the possibility of his _own_ second chance could be there, waiting for him at the field. A second chance to not be a coward this time. He had Jaemin’s heart this time, and that gave him the strength of a thousand bulls. He barely makes it down the stairs without tripping, his feet not working properly. His brain not working properly. All he knew was that Jaemin loved him. Jaemin _loved_ him. And he was here to see him. 

A feeling of excitement filled his chest, along with nervousness, anxiety, and fear. But this wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the time to fear. This is the time to stop being a damn coward. He was sick of it. He was done being afraid of what could happen. Because no matter what happens, Renjun understands now that it would be better than this. Dying in this place wondering what would have happened if he hadn't let the only man he had ever loved go. His childhood friend turned lover. Their fates were intertwined from the beginning, and love had made him too blind and stupid and cowardly to see it. But love has also made him see, made him brave for this shining moment. And he runs. 

He ran towards the field. This is the first time he had came to visit it in months. Ever since Na Jaemin left, he had not give himself the pain of going back to this place. He couldn’t. Not after all of the memories there. Not after their last day there before Jaemin left for Seoul. But as his legs flew across the grass. 381 steps there took way less because he was running. He was running towards the field once familiar to him because he had gone there for fourteen years. 

As he gets closer though, Renjun feels a slight disappointment to see that Jaemin wasn’t there yet. He slowed down to a jog until he reached the field, and looking back out on it again, he feels an uncomfortable balance of pain and joy. Pain because this place bought back so many memories. Joy because now he knew those memories were not in vain. 

And Jaemin was going to be here. Soon, he was going to be here. The thought made him nervous beyond belief but it was attached to a sense of happiness. He was going to be here. Jaemin was going to be here. And this time, Renjun wasn’t going to turn away. This time, Renjun was not going to cower and back down in fear of what _could_ happen. Because if he spends his life thinking of what _could_ happen, then what _would_ happen is that he will never know. He was ready. Goddamn, finally after all this time, he was ready. 

Still filled with a sense of hope and nervous excitement, Renjun allows his breath to catch up from all of the running and he sits down on the raggedy bench. Oh, how he missed this stupid bench that gave him splinters. He missed laying on Jaemin’s lap here. He missed the quiet conversations they’d have. He missed the pretty sound of the corn stalks when the wind would blow through the bristles. 

So he sits here, and Renjun waits. 

He sits there with his fingers gently making small tapping motions on his thighs and he stares out into the field like old times. Occasionally, well, more than occasionally, he’d whip his head around at any sound, heart hopeful for a second that it would be Jaemin walking along that path. He would get excited all over again, just for it to be just some other sound. But still, he waits. He sits there for a while, the morning sun was going to come up soon. Jeno will probably do the water today, so he can stay here. He can stay here in case Jaemin comes. He can say here and wait. And so he does. He waits. 

And he waits. 

And he waits. 

And, most of all, he waits. 

He waits until the afternoon sun is high in the sky, threatening to burn his skin off. The august heat was not merciful, and he felt the effects of it. He thought about leaving and coming back later once or twice, but what if Jaemin arrives sometimes in between that and thought that Renjun read the book and still did not want to try, was still too much of a coward to show up. Fearful of that, Renjun stays and he waits some more. At this point, the initial excitement is gone, and he is just anticipating. He sits there on that bench and he wants for a brown haired boy to come hold him again, to come love him again. But it’s getting _so_ hot, and Renjun is getting a little tired. 

He waits until the afternoon passes, even. And the sun seems to be on its way past the midpoint. 4 P.M., was it? Renjun wasn’t sure. He didn’t wear a watch. He just took an estimate. Every second he waited felt like an hour, and at this point, he almost wished he still had that feeling this morning of excitement. Because right now, he just felt nervous. He kept looking behind him, on that bench. He was sure that the bench was sick and tired of his ass being glued onto it at this point. He had stood up and paced around at some points, kicking up grass or rocks in the ground. But he never left. Jaemin was coming. He had said so. Renjun repeats to himself this to make his heart feel less pathetic. 

He waits until the sun sets. It had been a pretty sunset. The sky had been a gorgeous array of orange and red. It looked like ink spills across the canvas of the earth, illuminating Jebaek in its gorgeous glow. How pretty would it have been if Jaemin had showed up to see it with him. At this point, Renjun was losing hope that the man was even going to show up. Was this heartbreak all over again that he felt? He was feeling absolutely dejected, and as dusk arrives, and he no longer sees the sliver of sun in the horizon, Renjun lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. Why wasn’t Jaemin here? He had even double checked. It was the 236th day. It was the new beginning Jaemin asked for. It was the new beginning that Renjun wanted to give him. So why wasn’t he here. 

Renjun feels a crushing weight on him, and he begins to overthink. Or was it overthinking? He couldn’t tell anymore. What if he had been too late? Jaemin had written the book at least a month ago, but what if the man had changed his mind by now? Had forgotten? Or worse, no longer felt like trying to convince Renjun to not be a damn coward wasn’t worth it anymore. Renjun thought about how stupid and stubborn he had been throughout this entire journey. How many times he had pushed aside any notion of effort. How many times he had been pathetic in dealing with situation when it comes to the two of them. Had Jaemin finally had enough of it? Renjun felt his heart pang and a deep hurt echoed through his chambers. 

He was ready now. He was ready to truly give Jaemin everything now. To stop hiding and love Jaemin, no matter the circumstances they were in. He was ready now, so it hurt even more to Renjun that it might have been too late. 

The crickets begin chirping, and Renjun can hear the cicadas. He also sees fireflies, indicative that night has come. He had waited until night fell. He had waited _after_ night fell. It had to have been 8 P.M. or so, and he was still here. He knew how pathetic he probably looked, standing here alone waiting for a boy who was not coming at this rate. He doesn’t let himself cry, but he just painfully chuckles to himself. It was a painful sound that scratched his throat like razors. He felt so stupid. 

Renjun felt so stupid. What had he been doing, waiting like this. He should have known by the time sunset hit that Jaemin wasn’t going to come. The trains only leave a few times a day. He pursed his lips and looked down at the ground, trying not to feel even more sad and pathetic than he already did. He had been so excited this morning. And now, the ends the night completely and utterly dejected. Had it been too late? It had been too late.

Renjun picks himself up off the bench and holds himself in his arms. He turns, looking down at the ground, and begins walking back. He couldn’t bare to look up, ashamed of how pathetic he had looked. To think he had been childishly giddy this morning. He cringes at the thought and it hurt. 

He had walked only a meter back towards his house, body looking deflated, when from the side, he hears fast steps. Running. The sound of running, and breathing. It came towards him quickly, and Renjun looks up in whatever direction the sound was. There was only one thing, one _person_ , that Renjun wanted it to be, but at this point, he knew better than to hope. 

But as Renjun looks up, it happened: his heart stopped.

He hears words coming out of the person’s mouth, a shout across the distance between them, “Don’t you dare fucking leave.” 

Na Jaemin. The _perfect,_ utterly _perfect_ , Na Jaemin. His hair was messy, brown and messy. His eyes, even from this distance, have a glint to them. He wore a pair of joggers and a simple black sweatshirt to go on top of it. His sneakers were taking him across the distance between them until he stood right in front of Renjun, corn fields on their left, Jebaek on their right. His chest was heaving slightly, but it was nothing he couldn’t calm down in moments. What he _truly_ couldn’t calm down was his stupidly beating heart, at the sight of Renjun. He had seen the smaller just days ago in Seoul, but there was _nothing,_ he repeats, _nothing,_ like seeing Renjun in his natural element. Seeing Renjun in Jebaek. The beauty of the raven haired man seems to amplify up against the backdrop of this place, of his home, of Jebaek. 

Renjun’s eyes looked glassy and it took all of Jaemin’s power not to completely fall victim to those eyes. He was making this up. He was making Jaemin up, he was sure. It was 9 P.M. He shakes his head, sure that he was dreaming, sure that this was a mirage. He shakes his head adamantly at the sight. 

The smaller spoke up, giving Jaemin a shove, “Don’t _I dare_ fucking _leave_? Jaemin, I’ve been waiting here all day.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Jaemin said frustrated and disappointed in himself as he runs a hand through his own hair, “I had to finalize some papers about my move and the only train available to Jebaek by the time I was done was for 6 P.M., arriving at 9.”

Renjun gives him another shove, wanting to let tears streak down his face again, "You fucking idiot. Why did you do this?"

Jaemin stumbles back a little but he rebounds with ease as he tries to calm the frantic Renjun down. 

But Renjun keeps yelling, shoving at him with a clearly pained voice. Jaemin knew the smaller didn't mean any word he said. Renjun cries, "Why did you write this. Why did you do this."

"Renjun," Jaemin says softly, he takes a hold of Renjun's hands to stop the shoving and tries to make the smaller look up at him. 

"This can't be happening. Why are you here, and why are you doing this? This wasn't how it was supposed to go," He cried, "You were supposed to leave. And I was supposed to stay here, and move on. I was supposed to move on." 

Na Jaemin could only offer his friend a look of sorrow and try his best to stop the shoving. It goes on for some time, and he barely budges. It doesn't hurt. And he knew that Renjun was just shouting things out of pain. He knew because he felt the same way. Jebaek was quieter than usual. As if it held its breath in anticipation for the two of them. To see how this would play out. The mountains probably heard the cries, felt the pain, tasted the salt of Renjun's tears. 

But finally, the smaller calms down. 

Renjun shakes his head and looks away, "No, I'm a fucking idiot." He holds his breath and tries not to cry further, "I am."

Jaemin caresses his cheek gently, the touch that burnt like a thousand matches, "Renjun." The touch ignited him. 

The smaller looks up and he finally gets a look at his friend, his lover. Jaemin had only gotten here moments ago and Renjun had went into a frantic frenzy, out of just shock and utter pain. It had overtaken him. So much that now, he finally realizes.

_Jaemin was here_. He wasn't just a punching bag that Renjun made up in his mind. He was _here_. And it was unbelievable. His throat went dry, and he reaches out to outline the shape of Jaemin's nose, his eyes, trace along his cheek, his lips. My god, he was here. 

Renjun painfully whispers, barely hearing anything that Jaemin had just said. He was just in shock. So this was real. The book wasn't a dream. The final words in the author's note wasn't a dream. Na Jaemin wasn't a dream. “You’re here.” 

Na Jaemin then stops, and takes a good look at his friend. Looking at Renjun, he should have known from the beginning that he was done for, “I am.”

Renjun then finds himself unable to look at Jaemin, but he holds himself further and forces himself not to cry, but everyone could have tell that he wanted to, “You’re here…” He repeats himself, so softly.

At that, Jaemin closed the distance between them and pulled Renjun into an embrace. He wrapped up the smaller in his arms, and never wanted to let go. He didn’t want to hear Renjun like this. Not like this. Not this broken. Not because of him, especially when he knew it had happened because of him numerous times before. 

And Jaemin just holds him like this, comforting the smaller. _Baby, I’m here_ , Jaemin would tell him. Renjun never forgot how good it had felt to be held like this. Four months later and these were still the arms he wished that held him. This was still the man he wished to love him. 

“I thought you weren't coming,” Renjun spoke into his chest, “I thought that I pushed you away too much. That you didn’t think it was worth it anymore. Fuck, Jaemin,” Renjun felt his voice break.

Jaemin speaks into his soft hair as he holds him, “You think I’d give up on the love of my life because of a couple of conflicts?”

 _The love of my life_ . The word “love” in regards to Renjun coming from Jaemin’s mouth was so _new_ to him, so _unbelievable_ that to hear it from the lips of the man himself was a feeling that matched no other. Renjun leaned back, a bit away from Jaemin’s sweet embrace, and looked at the taller. He searched for genuineness in his eyes, because Renjun would not know what to do if this was all a trick. It wasn’t. The words, _love of my life_ , had lifted an enormous weight off of his shoulders that he hadn’t even realized had been pulling him down. 

He stares at Jaemin, still not able to realize that after four months, _four months,_ he is back here. He is back here in Jebaek with Renjun. It had been four goddamn months, and only now had both come to terms with how much they _needed_ one another. 

Renjun can’t take his eyes off of him, head still stuck on the words _love of my life_ , and he just states, as a matter of fact, in a state of disbelief, “You love me.”

Na Jaemin looks at him with the eyes of someone who would lay down their soul for the other, “I do. I didn’t know then, but I know now.”

"You love me..." Renjun then repeats, mostly for himself so he could actually hear what he was saying. 

Jaemin caresses his face, so desparately wanting to make up for lost him. He whispers to his lover, "I do."

He didn't know then. But he knew now. 

Renjun looked at him with a happy but slightly pained expression, “What if that ‘ _now’_ had been too late, Jaemin?”

“Then I’d try again until the day I die,” Jaemin explains with a shrug, “Or until the day someone else can make you happier than I can.”

Renjun laughs dryly, but with a hint of newfound sweetness, “You bastard. Who? Who is going to make me happier? Because if you know, then I’d like you to introduce me. Because this love hurts.” 

Jaemin purses his lips and looks down at the ground with a hint of a smile, “It does,” He says. 

_But it’s worth it_ . Renjun thought. He finally realizes this. It was _worth_ it. 

They stood there for a moment, still unable to comprehend this. It had been months since Jaemin had stepped foot in this place, and he expected it to feel unfamiliar again. Especially since he had been spending the months in his Seoul loft. But instead, Jaemin found that Jebaek fit on his like a glove nowadays. It felt like a home. It felt like a place where all of his sorrows can disappear, especially when he was with Huang Renjun. 

To break the silence, Jaemin gestures to the fact that they were both here, at night in this small village. And then he speaks up, “So I take it you have read the book?”

Renjun looks at him. It made him feel weak to the knees to think that if he had read the book just one day later or have never read the ending, Jaemin would have shown up here alone. He stares at his friend with glossy eyes and a pained yet happy expression. He still wasn’t used to seeing Jaemin after four long months of radio silence. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Renjun says softly. 

Jaemin smiled, “I counted on you to read the ending.”

“What a stupid decision,” Renjun gently speaks, giving Jaemin a playing but bittersweet smile. 

“Was it? Like you said, you’re here, aren’t you?” Jaemin shakes his head, “I told you, do you remember? I told you that one day, you’ll find an ending worth reading.”

Renjun remembers. It was that day at the rope swing. Day 18. Everything is a cycle. Everything comes back around. And this was one of them. And my god, Renjun was glad it did. 

He pursed his lips then smiled, “You did tell me.”

Jaemin nodded, “And what do you think of the rest of the novel? Don’t you like my thesis?” He stupidly grins, “It’s not exactly the anthropology thesis I told you I was doing, but it’s still my Thesis.”

And then Renjun pushed him gently, “You’re stupid. You’re a fucking idiot. You just gave up everything you worked for, hundreds of thousands of dollars, your entire college major, to take the chance on a book? Which idiot taught you to do that?” He said gently, knowing full well what idiot it was.

“The same idiot who once told me that if I let myself be confined by numbers, my failure is upon myself,” Jaemin pulls back the conversation from that one day they talked about occupations. He smiled as he said so. 

Renjun laughs gently, “That someone sounds pretty great.”

“He is.” Jaemin replies without missing a beat. 

“Well you did it,” Renjun looks at him with a bittersweet amazement, “You fucking did it. You chased after your dreams.”

Na Jaemin chuckles and looks off to the side for a moment before turning his gaze back to Renjun, “I still got one left.” 

_Fuck_ . Renjun had a feeling he knew what Jaemin was referring to. _I still got one left._ Or was he being too hopeful. His chest constricted and he hoped. He hoped to death that it was true. He opened his mouth to speak, “Jaem-”

“I want to be with you, Renjun,” Jaemin interrupted, voice firm and ringing with truth. The genuine want in Jaemin’s voice was unmistakable.

Renjun looked at him with pained, but growingly hopeful eyes. They stand there back in Jebaek where it all started, where it ended, and where now, Jaemin was asking for that new beginning. A new beginning that Renjun was finally willing to give. 

Na Jaemin continued, voice firm and unyielding as he stands across from Renjun, “I want to be with you, Renjun,” He repeats, “And you won’t have to worry anymore. You won’t have to worry about whether or not I love you too. You won’t have to wonder if everything you’re doing is in vain. I want to love you and wake up in the morning next to you.” He took a deep breath. The words sounded so fucking good to admit, “I want to go on those adventures with you, and stop reliving old memories. I want to create new ones. Fuck, I want all of you. I want to love you, Renjun. I don't care what has happened up until this point. I don't care what mess we have to clean up. It's worth it because I want you. And if you want me too, then I want to try. All I ask in return is that you be brave for us.”

“Jaemin, I want you too. I wa-”

“Then be brave for us, Jun,” Jaemin said almost pleadingly, “Stop turning away and giving up before it even starts.”

Renjun stares at him, and once again, he sees the world in Jaemin’s eyes. The world where everything is a little more beautiful, the skies brighter, the nights darker, the stars brighter. Renjun’s in love. He’s been in love. He knows it’s time. 

Renjun bites his lip, “I can’t believe you had to ask at least five times now for me to say yes.”

“You’re saying yes?” Jaemin asks, pausing. 

“I’m sick of being a coward, Jaemin,” Renjun then says, voice barely a whisper. He needed to tell Jaemin this. Tell him that he’s ready. He tries to straighten his back, “I thought that,” His voice was barely stable, “I thought that trying to forget you would be better. I thought that never seeing you again would save me so much pain,” And he swallowed the lump in his throat, “I didn’t know that it would hurt so much worse.”

Renjun looks up at Jaemin, “It’s been four months, Nana. It’s been four months and I ask myself every day why hasn’t it gone away? Why haven’t I stopped loving you? Why am I still in pain,” He gently touches his chest as he says this, “But most of all, I’m asking myself now: _Why_ have I let myself waste away like this?” 

Jaemin opened his mouth to speak, but Renjun beat him to it again, “Why am I doing this to myself? To save myself a pain of this not working out?” Renjun laughs dryly at this, “How long was it going to take me to understand that by not taking a chance, I guarantee our failure. Fuck,” He says while rubbing his face, “I’m done being a fool, Jaemin. I’m done being scared. Love made me a coward,” He says, and then he repeats the mantra that allowed him to pull through, “But love is also making me want to be brave.”

Renjun says this and then looks back up at Jaemin. Eyes searching. Searching for the love that was his finally, and it was there. In the way Jaemin looked at him, in his eyes, in his stance, in his words. 

Jaemin does not say anything in response, but instead, he steps in the distance that separates them, closing it, and tilts Renjun’s chin up to look at him. Jaemin’s eyes were the last thing Renjun saw before his mind went blank, and Na Jaemin kissed him. The kiss said so much that words could never describe. The kiss was laced with history, one that dated back to when they were little kids and weaved along the fabric of time until now, at 21 years old. The kiss was woven into the threads of fate, for what else would describe all the little signs the universe had been giving them, from the symbolic numbers etched within their story to the coincidences that could not _possibly_ have been _just_ coincidences. The kiss was engrained with memories of waterfalls, evenings on top of abandoned train cars, bikes rides to the beach, and long drawn out conversations that lasted until morning. The kiss was embedded in _love_. 

Renjun feels his hunger disappear, his thirst quenched, his aches gone. Renjun feels the color seep back into the world. The greens of Jebaek’s mountains were vibrant once more. The blues of the rivers were azul. The sounds of the whispering wind was kind to his ears again. This was what love did. It made life beautiful. 

Jaemin pulls away, but his hand still caressed the smaller’s face, “We’re going to try?”

Renjun nodded, staring into the eyes of the man he loves, “We’re going to try.” He hesitated, remembering something, “No matter where you move, no where you go, I’m going to try.”

Jaemin gives him a grin, as if he knew something Renjun didn’t, and then he spoke, “It’s a good thing you won’t have to try too far then.”

Renjun was confused, but for some reason, his heart began beating, “Jaemin, what do you mean.”

“Didn’t you hear me the other week? I’m moving. I’m sick of Seoul, don’t you remember me telling you? That I’m sick of it reminding me what I gave up to go back there? Who I gave up? Wh-”

“Jaemin, cut it out,” Renjun says almost in a panic, “What do you mea-”

Jaemin ignores him and continues, “If I’m sick of a place reminding me of who I gave up to go there, then where else would I move but back to the person I left?” 

Silence. Was Renjun hearing this right? There was no way Renjun was hearing this right. He was panicking. His heart was beating sporadically. His arms were frozen. He thought back to what Mrs. Rin said. She had known where Jaemin was moving to. Of course she fucking did. She was the woman who oversaw the maintenance of Jaemin’s old home. He thought of what Jaemin had said to him that night back in Seoul. _“You’re not even going to ask me where I’m moving? Are you sure you don’t want to know?”_ Fuck, it was unexpected. It was sudden. 

It had to have been a rash decision. In what fictional world would someone give up all they knew. The city. The business. The advancements. The opportunity. For Jebaek. Did the place mean that much to Jaemin? Could he die here with no regrets? Was it really like that? Renjun was panicking. 

He had to have misunderstood. Renjun asked for clarification, “Jaemin, I don’t underst-”

Jaemin beats him to it. With no hesitation, the man says, “I’m moving back. Back here. Back to you.”

And now, Renjun was really in shock. Now, nothing he was thinking could be labeled as a misunderstanding. Jaemin had told him clear and dry. And Renjun sputtered, “You’re fucking kidd-”

“We don’t have to count our days anymore, Renjun,” Jaemin says, thumbing the smaller’s cheek as he looks up at him with wide eyes, “You don't have to wonder when’s the next time you get to see me. We don’t have to check the time.”

Renjun was still in shock. It felt so sudden. He could barely put words out, “Jaemin, you’re being rash. You can’t jus-”

“I _can_ ,” Jaemin says and he furrows his brows a bit, “And Renjun, be quiet and listen to me, okay?” He said this with no hostility whatsoever and Renjun listens, “I’m not being _rash_. I knew the moment I realized I loved you that I was going to come back. Because listen,” Jaemin says his next words carefully, “I’m going to die. You’re going to die. We all fucking die. And if that’s the case, then what’s going to happen when I reach the end of the road? I’m in Seoul? I’m laying there thinking about the life I could have had?” Jaemin shakes his head, “No, fuck that. If I’m going to die, I’m going to die somewhere pretty, somewhere like here, in the arms of the man I love.”

Renjun officially hates him. He hates him for sweeping him up off his feet with every word. How could Jaemin say things like this and expect him not to be completely surrendered. In body and in spirit, Renjun was all his. What more did Jaemin want? 

Renjun barely let out a whisper,“But your job. What about your jo-”

“I can write from anywhere, Jun,” Jaemin says, “Mr. Choi would publish me whether I write from Seoul, Jebaek, or fucking London, for goodness sake.”

“Jaemin,” Renjun shakes his head. His heart was still beating fast, “Don’t play with me like this. If this isn’t real, then I don’t know what I’d do. Don’t play with me like this.”

Jaemin steps even closer, and he cups Renjun’s face in his hands, hoping that the intimacy will help his lover understand. Understand that this was real. Jaemin whispers to him, “It’s real, baby, it’s real.”

Renjun shakes his head, still unable to register this. He wanted to cry. So much had happened in a day. So much that it was almost overwhelming. He had so much great news today that it felt like it shouldn’t be real. It felt like something was going to go terribly wrong in a moment. Because what did he do to deserve all of this? Renjun was sick of crying, but that was all he wanted to do right now: out of joy, out of confusion, out of a mixture of emotions that he could barely comprehend himself.

“We missed four months,” Renjun says in a broken voice, Jaemin still comforting him as he’s in a state of shock, panic, and with a bit of watery eyes he was trying to shove away, “We missed four months, Jaemin.”

Jaemin just continued to comfort him, pulling the smaller to his chest and holding him like this. Nothing felt more right than Renjun. 

Renjun continued, “We missed four months because I wanted to be an idiot.”

Jaemin hums in acknowledgement, but he offers better words instead, “Maybe. But four months has nothing on forever,” And then he buries his nose into Renjun’s hair, missing the perfect scent of lavender. He whispers into it as his eyes close, “How does that sound, Renjun? Forever?”

Renjun pursed his lips, still not believing this was real. He gripped tighter onto Jaemin’s shirt and let out a small voice, “It sounds perfect.”

Was this a dream? He remembered when they left, he had told Jaemin that _this was a beautiful dream, but it was time to wake up_ . They were awake. They’ve been awake, for months now. So this _was_ happening. This _was_ true. The realization made Renjun believe that maybe he should trust in fate after all. Trust in the 381s and 236s and parallel sequences. And all of the stupid signs that they had been too foolish to take seriously. 

Was it going to be a happily forever after for them, now? Was it all going to be okay? He wasn’t sure. Maybe they are going to spend their mornings swimming in the creek, their evenings watching the sunsets from trees. Maybe he’ll continue to be the muse of Jaemin’s best selling works. He can’t say. Maybe Jaemin will continue to be _his_ muse for his heavily commissioned carvings. He can’t say. Maybe they are going to make travel plans out of Jebaek together, maybe to Seoul, or maybe Jaemin can show him more of the world: the West coast vibes of Los Angeles, the ancient shrines of Tokyo, the pretty beaches of Palau, the stunning cathedrals of Ireland. He can’t say. Maybe Jaemin will marry him, start a family together, grow old. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Renjun did not know the future. But now, instead of being afraid of it, Huang Renjun was going to face it. 

In the night, Jaemin kisses him again. He fills Renjun’s soul with the passion it lost when he left, and rekindles the roaring flames that had always been there. Putting his hands on Renjun’s waist, he lift the raven-haired boy up who lets out a small laugh and spins him around, still kissing the smaller. Who knew that life could be like this. The trial and error that it took was a slow, torturous process. They wasted time. They wasted energy. They wasted weeks and weeks trying to navigate the tricky path that was called love. But as they stay here, in Jebaek on the 236th day of the year, the new beginning that was granted made it all feel worth it.

Worth all of the pain and all of the hurt. All of the bittersweet feelings and all of the bittersweet tears. As they stay here, Jaemin spinning Renjun while kissing his sweet lips in front of the picturesque little corn field lit up by pale moonlight, everything felt like it was right in the world.

Jaemin hears the crickets. He remembered when he first came to Jebaek. He hated them. The crickets. The damn chirping that fills the silent air when night falls. It’s eerieness as it surrounds them everywhere. But there was something charming about them now. Because in the quietness of Jebaek, he could hear everything better. The rustling wind that whipped through the lush, dense mountains of Jebaek. The owl that hoots from the forests in the middle of the night. The sound of shoes on cobblestone when someone is running across it. The trickling of water from the streams and rivers.

And the sweet, honey-like sound of Huang Renjun’s voice. The voice of the person he loved.

And then, Na Jaemin looks up towards the sky. Away from the city lights and high rises, Na Jaemin had come home. He had come home to a place beyond the mountains where the river sings and the tall grass dances. To a place where a boy, raven-black hair and striking eyes, shows him what it means to live.

And what it means to lose.

And finally, most importantly of all, what it means to love. 

And now, he stares up into the beautiful, star filled skies of Jebaek. The twinkling city lights of Seoul was pretty: the skyline and all of the skyscrapers. But there were no visible stars. Not like here, not like Jebaek. Here, they were able to see the entire cosmos. It made them feel small, and although that sounds negative, there was a strange sense of freedom that comes along with understanding one is so small. Because only then does a person realize that they are so insignificant that no amount of money they make, no amount of awards and material items they own, would make a difference in a million years. Jaemin thought about that. Why not live how they want? Why not chase their dreams, even if it doesn’t work out? We’re all humans, under the giant cosmos, tiny and temporary. Why not live, why not love, why not enjoy life the way they wanted to. Why make the world happy before you let yourself be happy?

Jaemin continued to stare up at the stars. Twinkling. Shining. Dotting the heavens with their beauty.

Na Jaemin speaks, voice deep but soft, “I missed them. The stars.”

Renjun tilts his head up, still in Jaemin’s arms, to look with him at those stars. They glitter across the clear night sky of Jebaek, “I would too,” Renjun chuckles and he repeats a well known fact in the village that he had mentioned before, “The brightest stars shine here, in Jebaek.”

“No.” Jaemin replies. He then looked down at Renjun, who, in a little state of confusion at the sudden _no_ , looks to Jaemin. The brown haired man doesn’t take his stare away from Renjun and in that moment, the world is still as Renjun waits for an explanation.

“No?” Renjun asks, voice soft. 

Jaemin then changes the wording, to something more fitting, to something more true to his heart. It was just a _slight_ change, a one letter difference, but Renjun notices it. The one missing letter at the end of the word stars make all of the difference. And Renjun notices. He notices when Jaemin says:

When Jaemin corrects him, and says:

“No. The brightest _star_ shines here. In Jebaek.” Star was singular. Jaemin paused. The world stayed quiet as Renjun hands over the last piece of his heart to Jaemin. Hands over the last piece of his soul to Jaemin. His final surrender. 

And then Na Jaemin says, “You.”

Renjun was the star. 

Huang Renjun was the brightest star that shone here. Here, in Jebaek. 

Here, in Na Jaemin’s mind, in his body, and in his spirit. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?? adsfadsf i hope you guys liked it !
> 
> did you guys like the ending? it probably didn't happen how you imagined it, but i hope you guys enjoyed it  
> nonetheless! i'm kind of sad now. the story is over :/  
> I chose the title when first writing the fic knowing full   
> well this was the line I wanted to end the fic with hehe. 
> 
> If you want, bookmark my carrd to see future prompts & fic lists :) and my twt is mostly fic-centric so it has real time updates of me freaking out while writing   
> https://strawberrysummers.carrd.co/#  
> twt @temposlvt  
> and as always, thank you so much for always supporting the story ! i read every single comment, love every single kudos, and literally everything that you guys do. i love you guys so much.


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